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TEE 



CHANGED Cross, 



Other Religious Poems. 



SECOND ENLARGED EDITION. 



Jrr^fJ'^J '^' 



'<^'M^.M.(^J 



-hi 




NEW YORK: 

ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & CO., 

7T0 Bkoadwat, cor. 9th Street. 



''THE SHADOW OF THE BOCK, AND OTHER 
BELIGIOJJS FOEMS,'^ desigmd as a companion volume 
to THE CHANGED CBOSa. 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 

Anson D, F. Randolph & Co., 

In the OfBce of the Librarian of Congress, at 

Washington, D. C. 



EDWARD O. JENKINS, 

PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER, 

20 Nortli William Street, N. Y. 

ROBERT RUTTER, 

BINDER, 

84 Beekman Street, N. Y. 



The great favor which a part of the follow- 
ing selections had met in the form of ' ' Leaf- 
lets for Letters," induced the Publishers, 
some few years ago, to gather them in a vol- 
ume that found a wide circulation. 

In March, 18.65, a new edition, with addi- 
tions, was published ; and the continued de- 
mand for the work has led to the present 
enlargement, which embraces some twenty- 
nine additiohal poems. 

As the poems are mainly waifs, gathered 
from magazines and newspapers, it has not 
been possible, except in a few instances, to 
ascertain the names of the writers. 

New Yobk, March, 1872. 



The Changed Cross, 

AND 

OTHER Religious Poems. 



IT was a time of sadness, and my heart, 
Although it knew and loved the better part, 
Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife, 
And all the needful discipline of life. 

And while I thought on these, as given to me — 
My trial tests of faith and love to be — 
It seemed as if I never could be sure 
That faithful to the end I should endure. 

And thus, no longer trusting to His might 
Who says, " We walk by faith, and not by sight,' 
Doubting, and almost yielding to despair, 
The thought arose — My cross I cannot bear : 

Far heavier its weight must surely be 
Than those of others which I daily see. 
Oh ! if I might another burden choose, 
Mcthinks T should not fear my crown to lose. 



TRE CEAXGED CROSS. 



A solemn silence reigned on all around — 
E'en Nature's voices uttered not a sound ; 
The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell, 
And sleep upon my weary spirit fell. 

A moment's pause — and then a heavenly light 
Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured sight 
Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere, 
And angels' music thrilled the balmy air. 

Then One, more fair than all the rest to see — 
One to whom all the others bowed the knee — 
Came gently to me as I trembling lay. 
And, " Follow me I" He said ; " I am the Way " 

Then, speaking thus, He led me far above, 
And there, beneath a canopy of love. 
Crosses of divers shape and size were seen. 
Larger and smaller than my own had been. 

And one there was, most beauteous to behold, 
A little one, with jewels set in gold. 
Ah ! this, methought, I can with comfort wear, 
For it will be an easy one to bear : 

And so the Uttle cross I quickly took ; 
But, all at once, my frame beneath it shook. 
The sparkling jewels fair were they to see, 
But far too heavy was their loeujlit for me. 



THE CHANGED CBOSB. 



'' This may not be," I cried, and looked again, 
To see if there was any here could ease my pain ; 
lint, one by one, I passed them slowly by, 
Till on a lovely one I cast my eye. 

Fair flowers around its sculptured form ontwincd, 
And grace and beauty seemed in it combined. 
AVondering, I gazed ; and still I wondered more 
To think so many should have passed it o'er. 

But oh 1 that form so beautiful to see 
Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me ; 
Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colors fair ! 
Sorrowing, I said : " This cross I may not bear." 

And so it was with each and all around — 
Not one to suit my need could there be found ; 
Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down. 
As my Guide gently said : " No cross, no crown !" 

At length, to Him I raised my saddened heart : 
He knew its sorrows, bid its doubts depart. 
"Be not afraid," He said, " but trust in me — 
My perfect love shall now be shown to thee." 

And then, with lightened eyes and wilhng feet, 
Again I turned, my earthly cross to meet, 
With forward footsteps, turning not aside, 
For fear some hidden evil might betide *, 



8 TEE CHANGED GROSS. 



And there — In the prepared, appointed way, 
Listening to hear, and ready to obey — 
A cross I quickly found of plainest form, 
With only words of love Inscribed thereon. 

With thankfulness I raised it from the rest, 
And joyfully acknowledged it the best — 
The only one of all the many there 
That I could feel was good for me to bear. 

And, while I thus my chosen one confessed, 
I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest \ 
And, as I bent, my burden to sustain, 
J recognized my own old cross again. 

But oh ! how different did it seem to bo 
Now I had learned its preciousness to see 1 
No longer could I unbelieving say, 
Perhaps another is a better way. 

Ah no ! henceforth my own desire shall be, 
That He who knows me best should choose for me 
And so, whate'er His love sees good to send, 
ril trust it's best, because He knows tlve end. 



" For my thoughts are not your thoughts, saith the Lord."— 
Isaiah 50 : 8. 

" For I know the thoughts that I think towards you— thought3 
of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end."— 
Jer. 29:11. 

And when that happy time shall come, of endless peace and rest, 
We shall look back upon our path, and say : It was the begt. 



THE MEETING-PLACE. 



THE MEETING-PLACE. 

WHEKE the faded flower shall freshen 
Freshen never more to fade ; 
Where the shaded sky shall brighten, 

Brighten never more to shade ; 
Where the sun-blaze never scorches ; 

Where the star-beams cease to chill ; 
Where no tempest stirs the echoes 

Of the wood, or wave, or hill ; 
Where the morn shall wake in gladness, 

And the moon the joy prolong ; 
Where the daylight dies in fragrance 

'Mid the burst of holy song — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blest. 

Where no shadoAV shall bewilder; 

Where life's vain parade is o'er ; 
Where the sleep of sin is broken, 

And the dreamer dreams no more ; 
Where the bond is never severed — 

Partings, claspings, sobs, and moan, 
Midnight waking, twilight weeping, 

Heavy noontide — all are done ; 
Where the child has found its mother, 

Where the mother finds the child; 



10 THE MEETINa-PlACE. 



Where dear families are gathered 

That were scattered on the wild — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
Tklid the holy and the blest. 

Where the hidden wound is healed ; 

Where the blighted light re-blooms j 
Where the smitten heart the freshness 

Of its buoyant youth resumes ; 
Where the love that here we lavish 

On the withering leaves of time. 
Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on, 

In an ever spring-bright clime ; 
Where we find the joy of loving, 

As we never loved before ; 
Loving on unchilled, unhindered, 

Loving once and evermore — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blest. 

Where a blasted world shall brighten 

Underneath a bluer sphere. 
And a softer, gentler sunshine 

Shed its healing splendor here ; 
Where eiirth's barren vales shall blossom^ 

Putting on their robe of green, 
And a purer, fairer Eden 

Be where only wastes have been ; 



THE PILGRIM. 11 



WTiere a King, in kingly glory 

Such as earth has never known, 
Shall assume the righteous sceptre, 

Claim and wear the heavenly crown- 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'JMid the holy and the blest. 



TEE PILGRIM. 

STILL onward through this land of foes 
I pass in Pilgrim guise ; 
I may not stop to seek repose ; 
Where cool the shadow lies 
I may not stoop amid the grass 

To pluck earth's fairest flowers, 
Nor by her springing fountains pass 
The sultry noontide hours ; 

Yet flowers I wear upon my breast 

That no earth-garden knows — 
White lilies of immortal peace, 

And love's deep-tinted rose ; 
And there the blue-eyed flowers of faith, 

And liope's bright buds of gold. 
As lone I tread the upward path, 

In ricliest hues unfold. 



12 THE PILGRIM. 



I keep my armor ever on, 

For foes beset my way ; 
I watch, lest passing on alone 

I fall a belj)less prey. 
JS^o eartlily love have I — I lean 

Upon no mortal breast ; 
But my Beloved, though unseen, 

AValks near and gives me rest. 

Afar, around, I often see. 

Throughout this desert wide, 
His Pilgrims pressing on like me — 

They often pass my side : 
The kindly smile, the gentle word. 

For Jesus' sake I give ; 
But love — O Thou alone adored 1 

For Thee alone I live. 

Painful and dark the pathway seems 

To distant earthly eyes ; 
Tliey only see the hedging thorns 

On either side that rise ; 
Tliey can not know how soft between 

The (lowers of love are strcoTi — 
The sunny ways, the pastures green, 

Where Jesus leads His own ; 

They cannot see, as darkening clouds 
Behind the Pilgrim close, 



HOLY TEARS. 13 



How far adown the western glade 

The goklen glory flows ; 
They cannot hear 'mid earthly din 

The song to Pilgrims known, 
Still blending with the angels' hyrau 

Around the wondrous throne. 

So I, Thy bounteous token-flowei-s 

Still on my bosom wear ; 
While me, the fleeting love-winged houi*s 

To Thee still nearer bear ; 
So from ray lips Thy song shall flow, 

My sweetest music be ; 
So on mine eyes the glory grow, 

Till all is lost in Thee. 



UOLT TEARS. 

YES, thou may'st weep, for Jesus shed 
Such tears as those thou shetldest now, 
\V^lien, for the living or the dead, 
Sorrow lay heavy on his brow. 

He sees thee weep, yet doth not blame 
The weakness of thy flesh and heart ; 

Thy human nature is the same 
As that m which he took a part. 



14 HOLY TEARS. 



He knows its weakness, for he felt 
The crushing power of pain and woe, 

How body, soul, and spirit melt 

And faint beneath the stunning blow. 

What if poor sinners count thy grief 
The sign of an unchastened will ? 

He who can give thy soul relief, 
Knows that thou art submissive still. 

Turn thee to Him, to Him alone ; 

For all that our poor lips can say 
To soothe thee, broken-hearted one, 

"Would fail to comfort thee to-day. 

We will not speak to thee, but sit 
In prayerful silence by thy side : 

Grief has its ebbs and flows ; 'tis fit 
Our love should wait the ebbing tide. 

Jesus Himself will comfort thee, 
In His own time, in His own way ; 

And haply more tlian " two or three" 
Unite in prayer for thee to-day. 



WHOLLY RESIGNED. 16 



OOD OUR STRENGTH. 

MAN, iu Lis weakness, needs a stronger stay 
Than fellow-men, the holiest and the best . 
And yet we turn to them from day to day, 
As if in them our spirits could find rest- 
Gently untwine our childish hands, that cling 

To such inadequate supports as these, 
And shelter us beneath Thy heavenly wing, 
Till we have learned to walk alone with ease. 

Help us, O Lord ! with patient love to bear 
Each other's faults, to suifer with true meekness 

Help us each other's joys and griefs to share, 
But let us turn to Thee alone in weakness. 



WHOLLY RESIGNED. 

CHRIST leads us through no darker rooms 
Than he went through before : 
He that into God's kingdom comes, 

Must enter by this door : 
Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see. 
For if Thy work on earth be sweet, 
\Vliat will Thy glory be I 



16 '*MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND.' 



Then I shall end my sad complaints, 

And weary, sinful days ; 
And join with the triumphant saints. 

That sing Jehovah's praise : 
My knowledge of that life is small, 

Tlie eye of faith is dim, 
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, 

And I shall be with Him. 



^'MY TIMES ARE IN THY BAND." 
Psalm 31 : 16. 

FATHER, I know that all my life 
Is portioned out for me ; 
And the changes that are sure to come, 

I do not fear to see ; 
But I ask Thee for a present mind 
Intent en pleasing Thee. 

I ask Thee for a thankful love, 
Through constant watching wise, 

To meet the glad with joyful smiles, 
And to wipe the weeping eyes, 

And a heart at leisure from itself, 
To soothe and sympathize. 



" Jfr TIMES ARE IN TUY HAKD.'' 1*7 



I would not have the restless will 

That hurries to and fro, 
Seeking for some great thing to do, 

Or secret thing to know ; 
I would be dealt with as a child, 

And guided where to go. 

Wherever in the world I am, 

In whatsoe'er estate, 
I have a fellowship with heaiis. 

To keep and cultivate ; 
And a work of holy love to do, 

For the Lord on whom I wait. 

I ask Thee for the daily strength, 

To none that ask denied ; 
And a mind to blend with outward life, 

While keeping at Thy side ; 
Content to fill a little space. 

If Thou be glorified. 

And if some things I do not ask, 

In my cup of blessing be, 
J would have my spirit filled the more 

With grateful love to Thee — 
More careful than to serve Thee much, 

To please Thee perfectly. 

There are briers besetting every path, 
That call for patient care ; 



18 TEE BOEDER-LANDS. 



There is a crook in every lot, 
And a need for earnest prayer ; 

But a lowly heart that leans on TLee, 
Is hai)py everywhere. 

In a service that Thy love appoints, 
There are no bonds for me. 

For my secret heart is taught the truth 
That makes Thy children " free ;" 

And a life of self-renouncing love 
Is a life of liberty. 



THE BORDER-LANDS. 

FATHER, into Thy loving hands 
My feeble spirit I commit. 
While wandering in these Border-Lands, 
Until Thy voice shall summon it. 

Father, I would not dare to choose 
A longer life, an earlier death ; 

1 know not what my soul might lose 
By shortened or protracted breath. 

These Border-Lands are calm and stilly 
And solemn are their silent shades ; 

And my heart welcomes them, until 
The light of Ufe's long evening fades. 



J 



TEE BORDERLANDS. 19 



I heard tbem spoken of with dread, 
As fearful and uncjuiet places ; 

Shades, where the living and the dead 
Look sadly in each other's faces. 

But since Thy hand hath led me here, 
And I have seen the Border-Land ; 

Seen the dark river flowing near, 
Stood on its brink, as now I stand, 

Tliere has been nothing to alarm 
My trembling soul ; how could I fear 

"While thus encircled with Thine arm ? 
I never felt Thee half so near. 

What should appal me in a place 
That brings me hourly nearer Thee ? 

When I may almost see Thy face — 
Surely 'tis here my soul would be. 

Tliey say the waves are dark and de<3p, 
That ftiith has perished in the river ; 

They speak of death with fear, and weep 
Shall my soul perish ? Never ! never ! 

1 know that Tliou wilt never leave 
The soul that trembles while it clings 

To Thee : I know Thou wilt achieve 
Its passage on Thine outspread wings. 



20 '* ALL, ALL IS ^XOWX TO TnEL'."^ 

And since I first ^as brought so near 
The stream that Hows to the Dead Soil, 

I think that it has grown more clear 
And shallow than it used to be. 

I can not see the golden gate 
Unfolding yet, to welcome mo ; 

I can not yet anticipate 

The joy of heaven's jubilee ; 

But I will camly watch and pray 
Until I hear my Saviour's voice 

CaUing my hajijiy soul away, 
To see his glory, and rejoice. 



MXZ, ALL IS KNOWN TO TUFF:' 

*'WiiES my sjurit was overwhelmed witliia me, Hien Tlioa 
knewest my path." 

MY Cod, whose gracious pity I may claim, 
Calling Thee Fathc-i' — sweet, endearing 
name ! 
Tlie sufferings of this weak and weary frame, 
All, all are known to Thee. 

Prom human eye 'tis better to conceal 
IMuch that I sutler, much I hourly feel ; 
But oh 1 the thought does tranquillize and heal— 
All, all is known to Thee. 



'ALL, ALL IS KXOWN- TO THES:' 21 



Each secret conllict with indwolling siji, 
Each sickening fear I ne'er the jn-ize shall "win, 
Each pang from irritation, turmoil, din — 
All, all are known to Thee. 

"Ulien in the morning nnrefreshed T wake, 
Or in the night but little sleep can take, 
This brief appeal submissively I make — 
All, all is known to Tliee. 

Nay, all by Tliee is ordered, chosen, planned — 
Each drop that fills my daily cup ; Thy hand 
Prescribes for ills none else can understand. 
All, all is knoAvn to Tlice. 

ITie effectual means to cure what I deploro ; 
In me Thy longed-for likeness to restore ; 
Self to dethrone, never to govern more — 
iVll, all are known to Thee. 

And this continued feebleness, this state 
Wliich seems to unnerve and incapacitate, 
Will work the cure my hoi)es and prayers await- 
That can I leave to Thee. 

Nor will the bitter draught distasteful prove, 
^Vllcn I recall the Sox of Tliy dear love ; 
The cup Thou wouldst not for our sake5 remove — 
That cup He drank for 7nc 



22 OE! FOR THE EA PP Y DATS G ONE JB T, 



He drank it to the dregs — no drop remained 
Of wrath, for those whose cup of woe he drained 
Man ne'er can know what that sad cup contained, 
All, all is known to Thee. 

And welcome, precious^ can His Spirit make 
My little drop of suffering for His sake. 
Father, the cup I drink, the path I take, 
All, all is known to Thee. 



OH! FOR THE HAPPY DAYS GONE BY 

On ! for the happy days gone by, 
When love ran smooth and free ] 
Days when my spirit so enjoyed 
More than earth's liberty ! 

Oh ! for the times when on my heart 

Long prayer had never palled, 
Times when the ready thought of God 

Would come when it was called I 

Then when I knelt to meditate, 
Sweet thoughts came o'er my soul, 

Countless, and bright, and beautiful, 
Beyond my own control. 

Oh ! who hath locked those fountains up ? 
Tliose visions who hath staid ? 



on I FOR THE HAPPY DA VS GONE BY. 23 



\rKat sudden act hath thus transformed 
My sunshine into shade? 

Tills freezing heart, O Lord ! this will, 

Dry as tlie desert sand — 
Good tlioughts that will not come, bad thought 

That come without command — 

A faith that seems not faith, a hope 

That cares not for its aim — 
A love that none the hotter grows 

At Jesus' blessed name — 

The weariness of prayer, the mist 

O'er conscience overspread — 
The chill repugnance to frequent 

The feast of angels' bread : 

If this drear change be Thine, O Lord ! 

If it be Thy sweet will, 
Spare not, but to the very brim 

Tlie bitter chalice fdl ; 

But if it hath been sin of mine, 

Oh ! show that sin to me — 
Not to get back the SAveetncss lost, 

But to make peace with Thee. 

One thing alone, dear Lord, I dread — 
To have a secret spot 



24 Offt FOR TEE HAPPY PAYS GONE BY. 



That separates my soul from Thee, 
And yet to knoAV it not. 

Oh ! when the tide of graces set 

So full upon my heart, 
I know, dear Lord, how faithlessly 

I did my little part. 

I know how well my heart hath earned 

A chastisement like this, 
In trifling many a grace away 

In self-complacent bliss. 

But if this weariness liath come 

A present from on liigh, 
Teach me to find the hidden wealth 

That in its depths may lie ; 

So in this darkness I can learn 

To tremble and adore, 
To sound my own vile nothingness, 

And thus to love Thee more ; 

To love Thee, and yet not to think 

That I can love so much ; 
To have Thee with me. Lord ! all day 

Yet not to feel Thy touch. 

If I have served Thee, Lord ! for hire, 
Ilirc which Tliy beauty showed, 



LOST TREASURES. 26 



Ah ! I can serve Thee now for naught; 
And only as my God. 

Oh ! blessed be this darkness, then, 

This deep in which I lie ; 
And blessed be all things that teach 

God's dread supremacy I 



LOST TREASURES. 

LET us be patient, God has taken from us 
The earthly treasures upon which we leaned, 
That from the llceting thini^s wliieh lie around us, 
Our clinging hearts should be for ever weaned. 

They have passed from us — all our broad posses- 
sions : 
Ships, whose white sails flung wide past distant 
shores ; 
Lands, whose rich harvests smiled in the glad sun- 
shine ; 
Silver and gold, and all our hiarded stores. 

And, dearer far, the pleasant home where gathered 
Our loved and loving round the blazing hearth 

WTiere honored age on the soft cushions rested, 
And childhood played about in frolic mirth. 



26 LOST TREASURES. 



Wliere underneath the softened light bent kintUy 
The mother's tender glance on dauglitere lair, 

And he on whom all leant with fond confiding, 
Rested contented from his daily care. 

All shipwrecked in one common desolation I 
Tlie garden-walks by other feet are trod ; 

The clinging vines by other fingei*s tutored 
To tling their shadows o'er the grassy sod. 

"^VTiile carking care and deep humiliation, 
In tears are mingled with their daily bread; 

And the rude blasts we never thought could reach 
us, 
Have spent their woi-st on each defenseless head. 

Let us be cheerful ! The same sky o'erarches — 
Soft rain falls on the evil and the good ; [ing 

On narrow walls, and through our humbler dwell 
God's glorious sunshine pours as rich a flood. 

Faith, hope, and love still in our hearts abiding, 
May bear their precious fruits in us the same 

And to the couch of sulTering we may carry, 
If but the cupoof water, in His name. 

Let us be thankful, if In this affliction 
No grave is opened for the loving heart ; 

And while we bend beneath our Father's chiding;, 
We yet can mourn " each family apart." 



SUNDAY. 27 



Shoulder to shoulder let us breast the torrent, 
With not one cold reproach nor angry look ; 

There are some seasons, when the heart is smitten 
It can no whisper of unkindness brook. 

Our life is not in all these brief possessioiis ; 

Our home is not in any pleasant spot : 
Pilgrims and strangers we must journey onward, 

Contented with the portion of our lot. 

These earthly walls must shortly be dismantled ; 

These earthly tents be struck by angel hands ; 
But to be built up on a sure foundation, 

There, where our Father's mansion ever stands 

Tlicre shall we meet, parent and child, and dearer 
That earthly love which makes half heaven of 
home ; 
There shall we find our treasures all awaiting, 
WTiere change and death and parting never 
come. 



S U N D A Y. 

" I WAS In the spirit on the Lord's day."— Ret. 1 : 10. 
A FTER long days of storms and showera, 
/v . Of sighing winds, and dripping bowers, 
How sweet, at morn, to ope our eyes 
On newly *' swept and garnished " skies I 



28 SUNDAY. 



To miss the clouds, and driving rain, 
And see that all is bright again — 
So bright we cannot choose but say, 
Is this the world of yesterday ? 

Even so, methinks, the Sunda}-- brings 
A change o'er all familiar things ; 
A change — we know not whence it came- 
They are, and they are not, the same. 

There is a spell within, around, 
On eye and ear, on sight and sound , 
And, loth or willing, they and we 
Must own tliis day a mystery. 

Sure all things wear a heavenly dress 
That sanctifies their loveliness, 
T^-pes of that endless resting-day, 
When " we shall all be changed " as they 

To-day our peaceful, ordered homo 
Foreshadoweth mansions yet to come , 
We foretaste, in domestic love, 
The faidtless charities above~ 

And as at yester-eventide 
Our tasks and toys were laid aside ; 
Lo ! h ere our training for the day 
When we shall lay them down for aye. 



SVWDA T. 29 



But not alone for musings deep, 
Meek souls their '' day of days " will keep ] 
Yet other glorious things than these, 
The Christian in his Sabbath sees. 

His eyes, by faith, his Lord behold ; 
How on the week's first day of old 
From hell he rose, on Death he trod, 
Was seen of men, and went to God. 

Arid as we fondly pause to look 
"Where in some daily-handled book. 
Approval's well-known tokens stand, 
Traced by some dear and thoughtful hand 

Even so there shines one day in seven, 
Bright with the special mark of Heaven, 
That we with love and praise may dwell 
On Him who loveth us so well. 

Whether in meditative walk. 
Alone with God and heaven we talk. 
Catching the simple chime that calls 
Our feet to some old church's walls ; 

Or passed within the church's door, 
Where poor are rich, and rich are poor 
We say the prayers, and hear the word, 
Which there our fathers said and heard ; 



30 SUXHAT. 



Or represent in solemn wise, 
Our all-prevailing sacrifice ; 
Feeding in joint conmiunion high. 
The lite of iaith that cannot die^ 

And surely, in a world like this. 
So rite with woe, so scant of bliss — 
Where t'ondest hopes are oftenest crossed, 
And fondest hopes are severed most ; 

'Tis sometliing that we kneel and pray 
With loved ones near and tar away ; 
One God, one faith, one hope, one cai-e, 
One form of words, one hour of prayer. 

'Tis just — yet pause, till ear and heart, 
In one brief silence, ere we pai-t, 
Somewhat of that high strain have caught 
" The peace of God which passeth thought.' 

Then turn we to our earthly homes, 
Not doubting but that Jesus comes 
Broatliing his peace on hall and hut 
At evening, when the doore are shut ; 

Then speeds us on our work-day way, 
And hallows every common day ; 
"Without Hun Sunday's selt^ were dim, 
But all are bright, if spent with Him. 



ONE BY ONE. 81 



ONE BY OXE. 

ONE by one the sands arc lloAriiig 
One by one the luoments fall, 
Some are coining, some are going — 
Do not strive to grasp them all. 

One by one thy duties wait thee. 
Let thy whole strength go to each ; 

Let no future dreams elate thee ; 
Learn thou first what those can teach. 

One by one, (bright gifts from heaven,) 
Joys are sent thee here below ; 

Take them readily, when given — 
Keady, too, to let them go. 

One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, 
Do not fear an armed band ; 

One will lade, while others greet thee^ 
Shadows passing through the laud. 

Do not look at life's long sorrow, 
See how small each moment's pain ; 

God will help thee for to-morrow— 
Every day begin again. 

Every hour that fleets so slowly, 
Has its task to do or boai*^ 



32 MARY'S CHOICE. 



Luminous the crown, and holy, 
If thou set each gem with caro. 

Do not linger with regrettmg, 
Or for passion's hour despond; 

Nor, the daily toil forgetting, 
Look too eagerlj beyond 

Hours are golden links, God's tokeUj 
Reaching heaven, but one by one 

Take them, lest the chain be broken 
Ere the pilgrimage be done. 



MARTS CHOICE. 

JESUS, engrave it on my heart, 
That Thou the one thing needful art 
I could from all things parted be, 
But never, never, Lord, from Thee. 

Needful is Thy most precious blood, 
Needful is Thy correcting rod. 
Needful is Thy indulgent care, 
Ncedfid Thy all-prevaihng prayer. 

Needful Thy presence, dearest Lord; 
True peace and comfort to aflbrd ; 



II 



NEARER HOME." 33 



Kcedful Thy promise to impart 
Fresh life and vigor to my heart. 

Needful art Thou to be my stay 
Through all life's dark and thorny way 
Nor less in death Thou'lt needful be, 
To bring my spirit home to Thee. 

Then needful still, my God, my King, 
Thy name eternally I'll sing ; 
Glory and praise be ever His — 
TLc " one thing needful " Jesus is. 



''NEARER home:'* 

ONE sweetly solemn thoiiglit 
Comes to me o'er and o'er ; 
I am nearer home to-day 

Thau I ever have been before : 

Nearer my Father's house, 

Where the many mansicms Ije ; 

Nearer the great white throne, 
Nearer the crystal sea : 

Nearer the bound of life, 

Where we lay our burdens down ; 

+ As this poem lias suffered many changes in tlie various reprints, the author, in 
e yeiu' 1807, t'uinislicd tlie present publishers with this correct copy. 



34 out TO BE EKaJ}Y. 



Kearer leaving the cross, 
Nearer gaining the crown. 

But lying darkly between, 

Winding down through the night, 
Is the silent, unknown stream, 

That leads at last to the light. 

Closer and closer my steps 
Come to the dark abysm ; 

Closer death to my lips 
Presses the awful chrysm. 

Oh, if my mortal feet 

Have almost gained the brink ; 
If it be I am nearer home, 

Even to-day than I think ; 

Father, perfect my trust, 
Let my spirit feel in death, 

That her feet are firmly set 
On the i'ock of a living fai 



ith! 



OH I TO BE READY. 

On 1 to be ready when death shaU oome, 
Oh ! to be ready to hasten home ! 
No earthward clinging, no lingering gaze, 
No strife at parting, no sore ania/o ; 



TEH: BRIDEGROOM'S DOVHL 85 



No clialns to sever ttat earth liath twinod, 
No spell to loosen that love would bind. 

No flitting shadows to dun the light 
Of the angel-pillions winged for flight , 
No cloud-like phantoms to fling a gloom 
Twixt heaven's bright portals and earth's dark 

tomb ; 
But sweetly, gently, to pass away 
From the world's dim twilight into day. 

To list the music of angel l^nres, 
To catch the rapture of seraph fires, 
To lean in trust on the risen One, 
Till borne away to a fadeless thronq. 
Oh ! to be ready when death shall corao I 
Oh 1 to be ready to hasten home I 



THE BRIDEGROOM'S DOVE. 

*• KT Dove 1 In the clefts of the rock, in the secret of the 
stairs."— Cant. 2 : 14. 

i ' "^ yT" Y Dove !" The Bridegroom speaks. To 
.i\j- whom ? 

Whom, think'st thou, meaneth He ? 
Say, O my soul I canst thou j)rcsume 
He thus addresseth thee V 



86 '-^OL' liRlVEGROOMH DO\'J^. 



Yes, 'tis the Brldet^rooni'ti voice of love, 
Calliii^^ tliec, O my soul I ilis Dovei 

The Dove Is gentle, mild, and inoek : 

Deserve I, then, the name V 
I look within in vain to seek 

Aught which can give a claim : 
Yet, made so by redeeming love, 
My soul, thou art the Bridegroom's Dove ! 

Methinks, my soul, that thou may'st see, 

In this endearing word. 
Reasons why Jesus likens thee 

To this defenseless bird ; 
Reasons which show the Bridegroom's love 
To His poor helpless, timid Dove I 

The Dove, of all the feathered tribe, 

Doth least of poAver possess 
My soul, what better can describe 

Thine utter lielplessness ? 
Yet courajre take ! the Bridegroom's love 
Will keep, defend, protect His Dove 1 

The Dove hath noitlier claw nor stin^^, 

Nor weapon for the fight ; 
She owes her safety to her wing, 

Her victory to flight. 



TEE BRIDEGROOM'S VOfE. 87 

A shelter hath the Bridegroom's lovo 
Provided for his helpless Dove . 



The Hawk comes on, in eager chase— 

The Dove will not resist ; 
In flying to her hiding-place, 

Her safety doth consist. 
The Bridegroom opes His arras of love, 
And in them folds His panting Dove 1 

Nothing the Dove can now molest, 
Safe from the fowler's snare ; 

Tlie Bridegroom's bosom is her nest — 
Nothing can harm her there. 

Encircled by the arms of love, 

Almighty power protects the Dovo 1 

As the poor Dove, before the Hawk, 

Quick to her refuge flies, 
So need I, in ray daily walk, 

The wing which iaith supplies. 
To bear me where the Bridegroom's lovo 
Places beyond all harm His Dove I 



My soul of native power bereft, 
'J'o Calvary repairs 



88 THE BRIDEGROOM'S DOFE. 



Immanuel is the rocly cleft, 

" The secret of the stairs ! ** 
Since placed there by the Bridegroom's lovo. 
What evil cau befall His Dove ? 

Though Sinai's thunder round her roars, 

Though Ebal's lightnings flash , 
Though heaven a fiery torrent pours, 

And riven mountains crash — 
Through all, the " still small voice " of love 
VVliispers : " Be not afraid, my Dove 1 " 

Wliat though the heavens away may pass, 

^Vith fervent heat dissolve ; 
And round the sun this earthly mass 

No longer shall revolve ! 
Behold a miracle of love 1 
The lion quakes, but not the Dove I 

My soul, now hid within a rock, 

(The " Rock of Ages " called,; 
Amid the universal shock 

Is fearless, unappalled. 
A cleft therein, prepared by love, 
In safely hides the Bridegroom's Dovo I 

O happy Dove 1 thus weak, thus safe 
Do I resemble her ? 



OOD MY EXyJEEBlNQ JOY. 39 



Then to my soul, O Lord 1 vouchsafo 

A dove-like cliaractcr ! 
Pure, harmless, gentle, full of love, 
Make me in spirit, liOrd, a Dove I 

O Thou, who on the Bridegroom's head 

Didst, as a Dove, come down, 
Within my soul Thy graces shed, 

Establish there Thy throne ; 
There shed abroad a Saviour's love, 
Thou holy, pure, and heavenly Dove I 

S. 11. R 



GOB, MY EXCEEDING JOY. 
Psalm 43 : 4. 

EARLY my spirit turned 
From earthly things away, 
And agonized and yearned 

For the eternal day ; 
Dimly I saw, when but a boy, 
God, my exceeding joy. 

In days of fiercer flame, 
When passion urged me on, 

'Twas only bhss in name — 
The pleasure soon was gone. 



40 OOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY. 



Compared with Tliee, how all things cloj, 
God, my exceeding joy I 

At length the moment came — 
JesuS made known His love ; 

High shot the kindling flame 
To glories all above. 

Now all my powers one theme employ 
God, my exceeding joy. 

Shadows came on apace ; 

Tears were a pensive shower ; 
1 cried for timely grace 

To save me from the hour; 
Thou gavest peace without alloy, 

God, my exceeding joy. 

One trial yet awaits, 

Gigantic at the close ; 
All that my spirit hates 

May then my peace oppose ,' 
Hut God shall this last foe destroy 

God, ray exceeding joy. 



OOD'S SUPPORT AND QUID AN GE. 4] 



QOB'S SUFFORT AND GUIBANCB. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE QKHMAN. 

IT^ORSAKE me not, my God, 
/ Thou Goil of my salvation 1 
Give me Thy light, to be 

My sure illumination. 
My soul to folly turns, 

Seeking she knows not what; 
Oh ! load her to tliysclf— 
My (iod, forsake mc not I 

Forsake mc not, my God ! 

Take not Thy S])irit from me 
And suirer not the might 

Of sin to overeome mc. 
A father pitieth 

The chihlren he begot ; 
My Father, pity me — 

My (Jod, forsake me not. 

Forsake me not, my God I 
Thou God of life and pov/cv; 

Enliven, strengthen me 
In every evil hour; 

And when the sinful fire 
Within my heart is hot, 



42 GOD'S SUPPORT ANL GUIDAIJOE 



Be not Thou far from me — 
My God, forsake me notl 

Forsake me not, my God ! 

Uphold me in my going, 
That evermore I may 

Please Thee in all well-doing, 
Ajid that Thy will, O Lord I 

May never be forgot, 
In all my works and ways — 

My God, forsake me not 1 

Forsake me not, my God ! 

I would be thine for ever I 
Confirm me mightily 

In every right endeavor : 
And when my hour is come, 

Cleansed from all stain and spot 
Of sin, receive my soid — 

My God, forsake mc not i 



I AM. 43 



I A M. 

•• God calls himself 1 AAI, leaving a blank which each soul 
may fill up with that which is most precious to himsell" 

THOU bicld'st us call, and giv'st us many a 
name, 
That thou may'st hear and answer every cry 
But — for the wants of all are not the same — 
Another name Thy wondrous love did try ; 
To Closes first Thou gav'st it, and he knew 
Its worth, and taught us how to prize it, too : 
I AM — let every sinner kneel, and thank 
The Lord, and with his wants fill up the blank. 
Thy very wounds do say, each drop they blood, 
" I AM thy need." 

Oh ! I am weary of this life, 

Of all its vanity and care ; 
Where can I hide me from its strife, 

From all its noises — where ? 
My spirit sinks beneath the load, 
I pant to reach a safe abode. 
W hen shall I find a sweet release ? 
Remains there yet a lasting peace, 
A calm for my long storm-tost breast? 
" I AM thy rest." 



14 / A2T. 

Oh I I am full of gi-Ievous sin, 
I can do naught that's right; 

God ! how base my soul is in 
Thy f -ure and holy sight ! 

Thy perfect laws I daily, hourly break, 
And will not yield my will for Thy sweet sake. 
Still in my soul do burn wicked desires, 
And my heart's altar bears unhallowed fires ; 

1 can do naught but aU these things confess. 

" I AM thy rigliteousness." 

But, Lord, I am so weak, so weak, 

I cannot stand before Thy face ; 
Thy praises I can hardly speak, 

Hardly stretch forth my hands for grace ; 
The way seems long, the burden who can beai' 
Lord, must I sink beneath the load of care ? 
Thus is it now ; what shall it be at length ? 
« I AJNl thy strength." 

Lord, I must die ; e'en now the wing 

Of Thy dread angel hovereth nigh ; 
I know the message he doth bring — 

" Soul, thou hast sinned, and thou must dio." 
All nature feels and owns the just decree ; 
And is this aU that is in store for me — 
Ashes to ashes, dust to kindred dust. 
No hope, no light ? Surely my spirit must 



A LITTLE WHILE. 45 



Sink in despair ere nature's last, fierce strife — - 
■-' I AM thy Ufe." 

Oh! wonderful Thou art I 

Too wonderful for me is such great love. 
Shining in such a heart 

Like sunbeams from above. 
How rich am 1 1 yea, all things I possess — 
Peace, joy, life, strength, and perfect righteous- 
ness. 
Jehovah shows Himself, and gives to me 
All my desire. Look, trembling soul ! and see 
On what a treasury thy want may call — 
" I AIM thine aU in aU." 



A LITTLE WHILE. 

BEYOND the smiling and the weeping 
I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
1 shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home 1 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 



4i9 A ZITTLE WHILE. 



Beyond the blooming and the fading 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the shining and the shading, 
Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the rising and the setting 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the calming and the fretting, 
Beyond remembering and forgetting, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home 
Sweet hope ! . 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the gathering and the strewing 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the ebbing and the flowing, 
Beyond the coming and the going, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home 1 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the parting and the meeting 
T slt.dl be soon , 



ailTDSR ME NOT. 4? 



Beyond the farewell and the greedng, 
Beyond this pulse's fever beating, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home I 

Sweet hope 1 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the frost-chain and the fever 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the rock-waste and the rivei. 
Beyond the ever and the never, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home 

Sweet hope ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 



HINDER ME NOT. 

HINDER me not ! the path is long and weary, 
I may not pause nor tarry by the way ; 
Night Cometh, when no man may journey onward 
For we must walk as children of the day. 

[ know the city lieth fair behind me, 
The very brightest gem that studs the plain 

But thick and fast the lurid clouds are rising, 
Which soon shall scatter into fiery rain 



48 BINDER ME NOT 



I must press on until I reach my Zoar, 

And there find refuge fi'om the fearful blast; 

In Thy cleft side, O smitten Saviour! hide me. 
Till the calamity be overpast. 

Ye cannot tempt me back with pomp or pleasure 
All, in my eager grasp, have turned to dust. 

The shield of love around my hearth is broken ; 
How shall I place on man's frail life my trust ? 

But my heart lingers when I pass the dwellings 
\Vliere children play about the open door ; 

And pleasant voices waken up the echoes, 
From silent lips of those I see no more. 

For through their chambers swept the solemn 
warning, 
Arise ! depart ! for this is not your rest ; 
They folded their pale hands and sought the pres- 
ence — 
I only bore the arrow in my breast. 

But there is balm in Gilead, and a Healer 
"Whose sovereign power can cure our every HI 

And to the soul, more wildly tempest-tossing 
Than ever Galilee, say : " Peace, be stiU !" 

Wlio, showing His own name thereon engraven, 
AVith bleeding hands will draw the dart again, 



HINDER ME NOT. 49 



And whisper : " Should the true disciple murmur 
To taste the cup his Master's lip could drain V" 

And then lead on, until we reach the river 

Which all must cross, and some must cross 
alone ; 

Oh ! ye who in the land of peace are wearied, 
How shall ye breast the Jordan's swelling moan -^ 

I know not if the wave shall rage or slumber, 
When I shall stand upon the nearer shore ; 

But one whose form the Son of God resembleth, 
Will cross with me, and I shall ask no more. 

O weary heads ! rest on your Saviour's bosom. 

O weary feet ! press on the path He trod. 
O weary souls ! your rest shall be remaining, 

When ye have gained the city of your God. 

O glorious city ! jasper built, and shining 
With God's own glory in effulgent light, 

Wher&in no' manner of defilement cometh, 
Nor any shadow flung from passing night. 

There shall ye pluck fruits from that tree immortal 
And be like gods, but find no curse therein. 

Inhere shall ye slake your thirst in that fUU fount- 
ain [sin. 
Whose distant streams sufficed to cleanse your 



60 •/ CLIXG TO TRSEy 



Thei'C shall ye fiml your dead in Christ arisen, 
And iearn from them to sing the angols' song, 

W^ell n\ay ye echo Ironi earth's waiting prison, 
The martyr's cry : " How long, O Lord ! how 
ioujr 1" 



"/ CLIXG TO thee:' 

OHOLY Saviour, Friend unseen ! 
Since on Thine arm thou bidst me lean, 
Help me, throughout life's varying scene, 
By faith I cHng to Thee. 

Blest with this fellowship divine, 
Take what Thou wilt. Til ne'er repine : 
E'en as the branches to the vine, 

My soul wouUl cling to Thee. 

Far from her home, fatigued, oppressed. 
Here has siie found her place of rest, 
An exile still, yet not unblessed. 

While she can clinir to Thee. 



Wliat though the world deceitful prove, 
And earthly friends and joys remove 
With patient uncomplaining love, 
Still would I clinor to Theo. 



J 



^^ ALONE, YET trOT ALONE» 51 



Though faith and hope may long be tried, 
I ask not, need not aught beside ; 
How safe, how cahn, how satisfied, 
The soul that clings to Theo 1 

Tliey fear not Satan, nor the grave ; 
lliey feel Thee near, and strong to save ; 
Nor dread to cross e'en Jordan's wave, 
Because they cling to Thee. 

Blest is my lot — whate'er befall ; 
What can disturb me —who appall ? 
While, as my strength, my rock, my all, 
Saviour ! I clinjjj to Thee. 



''ALONE, YET NOT ALONE:' 

WHEN no kind earthly friend is near. 
With gentle words my heart to chcei* 
Still am I with my Saviour dear : 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

lliough no loved forms my path attend, 
With tender looks o'er me to bend, 
Yet am I with my unseen Friend : 
" Alone, yet not alone.'* 

When sorely racked with pain and grief, 
Here I can find a sure relief; 



62 THE SOnOOL OF SUFFERING. 



Aiid I rejoice in the belief: 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

'Tis on Ilis strength that I rely, 
And doubts and fears at once defy, 
So happy, so content am I, 

" Alone, yet not alone." 

E'en when with friends my lot is cast, 
And words of love are flowing fast. 
Still am I, when those hours are past, 
" Alone, yet not alone." 

If all my earthly friends remove. 
My fondest wishes empty prove, 
Still am I with my Saviour's love 
" Alone, yet not alone. 

Whate'er may now to me betide, 
I have a place wherein to hide 
By faith; 'tis e'en at His blest side: 
" Alone, yet not alone." 



TEE SCHOOL OF SUFFERINO, 

SAVIOUR, beneath Thy yoke 
My wayward heart doth pino ; 
AU unaccustomed to the stroke 
Of love divine: 



J 



TEE aOnOOL OF SUFFERING. 53 



Thy clia.stlscincnts, my Ood, arc hard to bear, 
Tliy (,'rc)ss Ls heavy iov frail (Icsh to wear. 

" Perisliing chihl of clay ! 

Thy sighing I have heard ; 
Long have 1 marked thy evil way, 
How thou hast erred 1 
Yet fear not, by my own most holy name 
I will shed healing through thy sin-sick frame. 

Praise to Thee, gracious Lord I 

I fain would be at rest; 
Oh ! now fulfil Thy faithful word 
And make me blest ; 
My soul would lay Iier heavy burden down, 
And take, with joyfulncss, the promised crown. 

" Stay, thou short-sighted child I 
There is much first to do, 
Thy heart, so long by sin defiled, 
1 must renew ; 
Thy will must here be taught to bend to mine, 
Or the sweet peace of heaven can ne'er be thino 

Yea, Lord, but Thou canst soon 

Perfect Thy work in me, 
Till, like the pure, calm summer uooa 

\ shine by TIimc ; 



54 TEE SCHOOL OF 8VFFERIN0. 



A moment sliine, that all Thy power may trace, 
Tlicn pass in stillness to my heavenly place. 

" Ah I coward soul, confess 

Thou shrinkest from my cure, 
Thou tremblest at tlie sharp distress 
Thou must endure, 
The foes on every hand for war an-ayed, 
The thorny path in tribulation laid ; 

" Tlie process slow of years, 
The discipline of life ; 
Of outward woes and secret tears, 
Sickness and strife ; 
Thine idols taken from thee one by one. 
Till thou canst dare to live with me alono. 

" Some gentle souls there are, 
AV^ho yield unto my love, 
Who, ripening fiist beneatli my care, 
I soon remove ; 
Hut thou stilT-nccked art, and hard to rule ; 
Thou must stay longer in affliction's school" 

My Maker and my King ! 
Lj this Thy love to mo ? 
Oh ! that I had the lightning's wing, 
From earth to flee ; 



THE SCHOOL OF SUFFERING. 



How can I bear the heavy weight of woes 
Thine indignation on the creature throws 'i 

" Thou canst not, O my child 1 
So hear my voice again ; 
I will bear all thy anguish wild, 
Thy grief, thy pain ; 
My arms shall be around thee, day by day, 
My smile shall cheer thee on thy heavenward way. 

" In sickness, 1 will be 

Watching beside thy bed, 
In sorrow thou shalt lean on rae 
Thy aching head , 
In every struggle thou shalt conqueror prove, 
Nor death itself shall sever from my love." 

O grace beyond compare ! 

love most high and pure 1 
Saviour, begin, no longer spare, 

1 can endure ; 

Only vouclisafe Thy grace, that I may live 
IJato Thy glory who canst so forgivo. 



5G TEE riLGRIM'S WANTS. 



THE I'lLGunrs wants. 

TWANT that adornini]^ divine, 
Thou, only, my God, canst bestow ; 
r want in those beantiful <];annents to shine, 
Which distinguish Thy househohl beU>w. 

Col. 3:12-17. 

1 want, oh ! I want to attain 

Some likeness, my Saviour, to Thee : 

Tliat longed-for resemblance once more to regain, 
Thy comeliness put upon me. 

1 John 3 : 2, 3. 

1 want to be marked for Thy own ; 

Thy seal on my Ibrchead to wear ; 
To receive that "new name" on the mystic white 

stone. 
Which only Thyself canst declare. 

Pov. 2:17. 

[ want, every moment, to feel 

That the Spirit does dwell in my heart, 
That Ills power is present to cleanse and to heal. 

And newness of life to impart. 

Kom. 8:11 -Ifi 

I want so in Thee to abid(\ 

As to bring forth some fruit to Thy praise; 



TBB PILOIilM'S WANTS. 57 



The branch that Thou prmicst, though feeble iind 
dried, 
Ma)' hmgulsh, but never decays. 

John 15. 2-5. 

I want Thine own hand to unbind 

lOacli tic to terrestrial thln<^s, 
Too t(;nderly cherislied, too closely entwined, 

AVhoie my heart too tenaciously clings. 

1 John 2 : 15. 

I want, by my aspect serene, 

My actions and words, to declare 
That my treasure is placed in a country unseen, 

That my heart and aflections arc there. 

Matt. G: 19-21. 

I want, as a traveller, to haste 

Straight onward, nor pause on my way ; 
No forethought or anxious conti-ivance to wastu 

On my tent, only pitched lor a day. 

Ueb. 13:5, C. 

I want (and this sums up my prayer) 

To glorify Thee till I die ; 
'J'hcn calmly to yield up my soul to Tiiy caro, 

And breathe out m i)rayer my last sigh. 

PhlL 3 : 8, 9. 



58 HEAVEN. 



IJ E A V EN. 

On ! heaven is nearer than mortals think, 
When they look with a trembling drcacl 
At the misty future that stretches on, 
From the silent home of the dead. 

'Tis no lone isle on a boundless main. 

No brilliant but distant shore, 
Where the lovely ones who are called away 

]\[ust go to return no nu)rc. 

No, heaven is near us ; the mighty veil 

Of mortality blinds the eye, 
That we cannot see the angel bands. 

On the shores of eternity. 

Tlie eye that shuts in a dying hour 

Will open the next in bliss ; 
The welcome will sound in the heavenly world, 

Ere the farewell is hushed in this. 

We pass from the clasp of mourning friends, 
To tlie arms of the loved and lost, 

And those smiling faces will greet us there, 
Which on earth we have valued most. 

Tet oft in the hours of holy thought, 
To the (hii"stin<i; soul is "iven 



A VOWS FROM UEAVEK 60 



Tliat power to pierce tliroigli the mist of sense, 
To the beauteous scenes of heaven. 

'riien very near seem its [)early gates, 

And sweetly its harpings lull ; 
Til] tlie soul is restless to soar away, 

And longs for the angel's call. 

I know when the silver cord is loosed, 

AVHien tiie veil is rent away, 
Not long and dark shall the passage bo, 

To the realms of endless day. 



A VOICE FROM HEAVEN'. 

I SHINE in the light of God, 
His image stamps ray brow ; 
Through the shadows of Death my feet have trod,^ 

And I reign in glory now. 
No breaking heart is here, 

No keen and thrilling pain, 
No wasted cheek, where the burning tear 
Hath rolled, and left its stain. 

I have found the joys of heaven, 

I am one of the angel band ; 
To my head a crown is given, 

And a harp is in my hand: 



00 ^l VOICE FROM rfEAVE2l 



1 liave learned tlie song they sinf:^, 

Whom Jesns hath made tree, 
And the glorious walls of heaven still ring 

With my new-born melody. 

No sin, no grief, no pain — 

Sale in my happy home : 
My fears all fleil, my doubts all slain, 

My hour of triumph eome ; 
O friends of my mortal years 1 

The trusted and the true, 
Y^ou're walking still the vale of tears, 

But I wait to woleome you. 

Do T ibri;et ? Oh ! no. 

For memory's golden chain 
Shall bind my heart to the hearts below 

Till they meet and touch again ; 
Each link is strong and bright. 

While love's electric llame 
Flows freely down, like a river of light, 

To the world from whence I camo. 

Do you mourn when another star 
Shmes out from the glorious sky ? 

Do you weep when the voice of Avar 
And the ra£:o of conflict die ? 



surniOA TioN. 61 



Why then sliould your tears roll down, 
Or your heart be sorely riven, 

For another gem in the Saviour's crown, 
And another soul in heaven ? 



SUPPLICATION. 

I OR I), hear my prayer I 
_J Turn not Tliine car from my distr089) 
But with Tiiy loving mercy bless, 
Lest I despair 

lie gracious, Lord ! 
My Boul is oft opprest and weak ; 
Oh ! aid me when I comfort seek 

J a Tliy blest word. 

My fb()tste[)s stray ; 
I wander often from the; road 
That leads to i)eacc and Thee my God 

Teacli Thou the way. 

Oil ! make me pure, 
Clothe Thou my soul in spotless white, 
Tliat my Jicce[)tance in Thy sight, 

Ee always suro 

Let me be one 
Of all the sinless company 



62 EVENING PRAYER. 



That round Thy throne hosannahs sing, 
Through Christ Thy Son. 

Tliy will be done 
On eai-th, as by each holy one, 
Thy own redeemed, who near thy tlu-oue, 

Bow down the knee 1 11 n. 



EVENING PRAYER. 

nmATHER of mercy 1 at the close of day, 
JU My work and duties done, to Thee I pray 

Before I sleep ; 
With clapped hands I humbly bow my head, 
And ask Thee, Lord, ere I retire to bed, 

]\Iy soLd to keep. 

The sins and failings of the day now past. 
The shadows on my soul that they have cast, 

Do Thou forgive ; 
Oh ! purge my hfe from every taint of sin, 
That I within Thy com-ts may enter in. 

With Thee to Uve. 

Whatever sorrow 1 this day have known, 

I spread it now, Lord 1 before Thy throne — 

Oh 1 succor send ; 
I would beneath Thy chastening hand be still, 



THE WANDERIKG HEART. 63 



And meekly bow before Thy sovereign will, 
Unto the end. 



And now, with folded hand upon my breast, 
At peace with Thee, I lay me down to rest 

Uj)on my bed ; 
May angels guard me through the darksome niglitj 
From troubled dreams, until the morning light 

Its beams shall shed. II n. 



THE WANDERING HEART. 

ALAS ! for the wildly wandering heart, 
And its changing idol guests 1 
It has roamed away to the world's far ends, 

At the vagrant wind's behests. 
More fleet in its course than the flying dart. 
Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

Go, bind it with Memory's holiest spells, 
But it recks not the things of old ; 

Go, chain it in Gratitude's surest cells, 
With fetters more precious than gold: 

Tet ever, oh ! ever, it will depart — 
Alas 1 for the wanderin<r heart. 



04 TEE WANDERING HEART. 



Is it p:one up to listen at heaven's jrate, 

To Gabriel's lyre of praise V 
And to catch tlie deep clianting vv^here seraphs 

As a lesson tor its mortal lays ? [wait 

) no 1 for it loves from such lessons to pait. 

Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

It loves on a worthless and treacherous world 

To bestow its high desires ; 
And the lamp which it ought to be lighting in 

It kindles at idol fires. [heaven, 

Full seldom it turns to i'^s guiding chart — 

Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

It needs to be steeped in the briny wave 

Of afiliction's billowy sea, 
And salt tears must water its way to the grave, 

Ere it will from these vanities flee. 
It must ever be feeling the chastening smarts 

Alas ! for the wandering heart. 

My Father ! my Father ! this heart would be thine 

Restore from its wanderings ; 
Oh ! visit and nourish thy wilderness vine, 

Though it be from the bitter springs : 
Till tlie years of its pruning in time shall be o'er, 
And its shoots in eternity wander no more 1 



^'RETURN- TREE TO TRY REST: 66 



'■'RETURN THEE TO THY REST:' 

RETUIvN, return thee to thine cnly rest, 
Lone pilgrim of the world ! 
Far erring from the fold — 
By the dark night and risen storms distressed : 
I^ist, weary lamb, the Shepherd's anxious voicQ, 
And once again within His arms rejoice. 

Return, return, thy fair white fleece is soiled 

And by sharp briers rent — 

Thy httle strength is spent ; 
Yet lie will pity thee, thou torn and spoiled. 
There, thou art cradled on Ills tender breast; 
Now never more, sweet lamb, forsake that rest. 

Return, return, my soid ; be like this lamb ; 

Yet can it, can it be 

That thou should'st pardon me, 
Thou injured love ! all ingrate as T am ; 
Once again, weary of eailh's trilling things, 
False cis the desert's far and shining springs ? 

Return, return to thy forsaken Friend, 

So long despised, forgot — 
That now, thou wandering heart, 'twere just 

If He should " know thee not ;" 



66 NEAR JESUS. 



Tet on, press on, towards the mercy-seat, 
And if thou perish, perish at His feet. 

Jlctuni, return, for He is near thee dwelling, 

And not into the air 

Need rise the sighs of prayer ; 
Into His ear thou'rt all thy sorrows telling , 
Thou need'st not speak to Him through spac es wide. 
For He is near thee, even at thy side. 

" Him have I pierced " — oh ! I come, I come ; 

Lly heart is broken. Lord, 

It needs nor voice nor word ; 
One only look brought Peter back of yore ; 
How bitterly 1 weep as then he wept I 
Henceforth, oh! keep me, and I shall be kept 



NEAR JESUS. 

I WANT to live near Jesus, 
And never go astray. 
To feel that I am frrowin^ 

More like Him every day } 
That 1 am always laying 
My treasure up above, 
And gaining more the spirit 
Of His jrentlencss and love. 



ITEAB JESVS. 67 

I want such steadfast purpose 

My mission to fulfil, 
That it may be my meat and drink, 

To do my Father's will, 
To follow in His footsteps. 

Who never turned aside 
From the path that leads to heaven^ 

Though often sorely tried. 

Oh 1 that in His humility 

My spirit may be clad ! 
That I may have the patience 

My sutfering Saviour had, 
A heart more disengaged 

From earth and earthly things, 
Which through life's varied trials 

To Jesus simply clings. 

Oh 1 1 shall live near Jesus, 

And never go astray. 
And every sin-defiling stain 

Shall soon be washed away ; 
And I'll bear my Master's image 

When I see Him face to face, 
Then earth shall lose the power 

Its brightness to deface. 



68 WHO IS M7 BROTHER? 



WHO IS MY BROTHER? 

MUST 1 my brother keep, 
And share his pains and toll, 
And weep with those that weep, 

And smile with those that smile ; 
And act to each a brother's part, 
^ nd feel his sorrows in my heart ? 

Must I his burden bear 

As though it were my own, 

And do as I would care 
Should to myseh' be done ; 

And faithful to his interests prove, 

And as myself my neighbor leave ? 

Must I reprove his sin, 

Must I partake his grief, 
And kindly enter in - 

And minister relief — 
The naked clothe, the hungry feed, 
And love him, not In word, but deed ? 

Then, Jesus, at Thy feet 

A student let me be. 
And learn, as it is meet, 

My duly. Lord, of Thee ; 
For Tliou didst come on mercy's plan^ 
And iill Thy hfc was love to man. 



PILGRIM OF EARTH. 69 



Oh ! make me as Tliou art, 
Tliy Spirit, l^ord, bestow — 

The kind and gentle heart, 
That feels another's woe ; 

That thus I may be hke my Head, 

And in my Saviour's footsteps tread. 



PILGRIM OF EARTH. 

PILGRIM of earth, who art journeying to 
heaven ! 
Heir of Eternal Life ! child of the day 1 
Cared for, watched over, beloved and forgiven — 
Ai'i thou discouracied because of the way ? 

Cared for, watched over, though often Tliou seemest 
Justly forsaken, nor counted a child ; 

Loved and forgiven, though rightly Thou deemest 
Thyself all unlovely, impm-e, and defiled. 

Weary and thli-sty — no water-brook near thee, 
Press on, nor faint at the length of the way ; 

The God of thy life will assuredly hear thee^ 
He will provide thee strength for the day. 

Break through the brambles and briei-s that ob- 
struct thee, 
Drea<l not the gloom and the blackness of night 



70 PILGRIM OF EARTH. 



Lean on the hand that will safely conduct thee, 
Tnist to His eye to whom darkness is light. 

Be trustful, be steadfast, whatever betide thee, 
Only one thing do thou ask of the Lord — 

Grace to go forward wherever He guide theo. 
Simply believing the truth of His word. 

Still on thy spirit deep anguish is pressing, 
Not for the yoke that His wisdom bestows : 

A heavier burden thy soul is distressing, 
A heart that is slow in His love to repose. 

Earthliness, coldness, unthankful behavior — 
x\h! thou mayest sorrow, but do not despair 

Even this grief thou mayest bring to thy Saviour 
Cast upon Him e'en this burden and care 1 

Bring all thy hardness — His power can subdue it; 

How full is the promise ! The blessing how fren 
' ^^^latsoeve^ ye ask, in my name, 1 will do it. 

Abide ill my love, and be jo}-ful ui me." 



A LITTLE WHILE. *J\ 



«« WHAT IS TUTS THAT HE SAITH : A LIT- 
TLE WHILE r 

John 1G : 18. 

Oil ! for the peace which floweth as a river, 
Making Life's dcsert-plaoes bloom and smilo. 
Oh ! for a faith to grasp heaven's briglit " for ever," 
Amid the shadows of Eartli's "little while." 

" A little while " for patient vigil-keeping, 
To face the storm, to wrestle with tli.e strong ; 

" A little while " to sow the seed with weeping, 
Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest-song 

" A little while " to wear the robe of sadness, 
To toil with weary step through erring ways; 

Then to ponr forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
And clasp the girdle of the robe of praise. 

" A little while " 'mid shadow and illusion 
To strive by faith Love's mysteries to spell ; 

Then read each dark enigma's clear solution, 
Then hail Light's verdict — "-lie doth all thing 
well." 

" A little while" the earthea pitcher taking 
To wayside brooks from far-off fountains fed; 

Tlien the parched lip its thirbii for ever slaking 
Beside the fulness of the Fountain Ileaa. 



72 m HEA TEN. 



"A little Avlille" to keep the oil from falling; 

" A little while " Faith's flickering lamp to trim 
And then, the Bridegroom's coming footstep hailing, 

To haste to meet Ilim with the bridal hymn. 

And He wlio is at once both Gift and Giver, 
'Jlie future Glory, and tlie present smile. 

With tlie bright promise of the glad " for ever," 
Will light the shadows of the " little while." 



IN HEAVEN. 

"Their angelg do always behold the face of my Father." 

Qn.ENCE filled the courts of heaven, 
k3 Hushed were seraphs* harp and tono, 
When a little new-born seraph 

Knelt before the Ettirnal Throne ; 
While its soft white hands were lifted, 

Claf'ped, as if in earnest prayer, 
And its voice, in dove-like murmurs, 

Rose like music on the ear. 
Light from the full fount of Glory 

On his robes of whiteness glistened, 
And the bright-winged seraphs near Him 

Bowed their radiant heads and listened. 



m UEAVEN. 73 



" JiOrd, from Tliy Throne of Glory here, 
My heart turns fondly to another ; 
O Lord ! our God, the Comforter, 

Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother I 
jMany sorrows hast Thou sent her, 

Mei'-kly has she drained the cup ; 
And the jewels Thou hast lent her 
Unrej)ininf]j yielded up. 

Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother 

" Earth is growing lonely round her; 
Friend and lover hast 'J'liou taken; 
Let her not, though woes sui-round her 

Feel herself by Thee forsaken. 
Let her tliiuk, when faint and weary, 

We are waiting for her here : 
Let each loss that makes earth dreary 
Make the hope of heaven more d(!ar. 
Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother 

" Thou, who once in nature human, 
Dwelt on carlh a little, child, 
Pillowed on the breast of Woman, 

Blessed Mary ! undcfiled. 
Thou who, from the cross of suffering, 

Marked Thy Mother's tearful face, 
And bequeathed her to Thy loved ouo. 
Bidding him to fill Tliy place : 

Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother / 



74 ly HEAVEN. 

" Tliou wlio once, from lieavon descending, 
Tears and woes and conflicts won : 
Tliou who, nature's laws suspending, 

Gav'st the widow back her son : 
Thou who, at the grave of T^azarus 

Wept with those who wept their dead : 
Thou 1 who once in mortal anguish 
Bowed Thine own anointed head, 

Comfort, comfort, my sweet Mother I " 

Tlie dove-like murmurs died away 

Upon the radiant air. 
But still the little suppliant knelt 

With hands still clasped in prayer; 
Still were those mildly-pleading eyes 

Turned to the sapphire throne, 
Till golden harp and angel voice 

Bang forth in mingU'd tone; 
And as the swelling numbers flowed, 

By angel voices given, 
llich, sweet, and clear, the anthem rolled 

llirough all the courts of heaven. 
"He is the widow's God," it said. 

Who spared not " His own Son," 
Tlie infant cherub bowed his head — 

"T'hy will, OLord! he doner 



'*IT 18 I; BE NOT afraid:'' 75 



"IT IS I; BE NOT AFRAID.' 

Matt. 14 : 87. 

rr"^ OSSED with rougli winds, and faint witU 
JL fear, 

Above tlic tempest, soft and clear, 
AVhat still small at'cents greet mine eiir ? 
'I'is I ; be not afraid. 

" 'Tis T, -wlio led thy steps aright ; 
'Tis T, who gaA-e thy blind eyes sight ; 
Tis I, thy Lord, thy Life, thy Light. 
'Tis I ; be not afraid.^ 

" Tliesc raging winds, this surging sea, 
Bear not a breath of wrath to thee ; 
That storm has all been spent on mo. 
'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

" Tliis bitter eup fear not to drink ; 
I know it well — oh ! do not shrink ; 
I tasted it o'er Kedron's brink. 

'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

" Mine eyes are watching by thy bed, 
IMinc arms are underneath thy head, 
My blessing is around thee shed. 
'Tis I ; be not afraid. 



76 NATURE AND FAFTB. 



" "\Micu on the other side thy feet 
Shall rest 'mid thousand welcomes sweet, 
One well-known voice thy heart fihall greet 
'Tis I ; be not afraid." 

" From out the dazzling majesty, 
Gently He'll lay His hand on thee, 
"VMiispering : " Beloved, lov'st thou me ? 
'Twas not in vain I died lor thee. 
*TisI; be not afraid." 



d 



NATURE AND FAITH. 

2 Cor. 4 : 17, 18. 

WE wept — 'twas Nature wept, but Faith 
Can pierce beyond the gloom of deafly 
And in yon world, so fair and bright, 
Behold thee in refulgent light ! 
We miss thee here, yet Faith would rather 
Know thou art with thy heavenly Father. 

Nature sees the body dead — 

Faith behohls the spirit tied ; 

Nature stops at Jordan's tide — 

Faith beholds the other side ; 

That but hears firewell and sighs, 

llivi, thy w(;lcome in the skies; 



J>rATURE AND FAITH. 77 



Nature mourns a cruel blow — 

Faith assures it is not so ; 

Nature never sees thee more — 

Faith but sees thee gone before ; 

Nature tells a dismal story — 

Faith has visions full of glory; 

Nature views the change with sadness — 

Failh contemplates it with gladness ; 

Nature murmurs — Faitlt gives meekncs,s, 
*^ Strength is perfected in weakness ;" 
Nature writhes, and hates the rod — 
Faith looks up and blesses God ; 
Senae looks downwards — Faith above \ 
TJiat sees harshness — this sees lovo. 
Oh I let Failh victorious be — 
Let it reign triumphantly 1 

But thou art gone ! not lost, but flown I 
Shall I then ask thee back, my own, 
Back — and leave thy spirit's brightness ? 
Back — and leave thy robes of whiteness V 
Back — and leave thine angel mould ? 
Back — and leave those streets of gold ? 
Back — and leave the Lamb who feeds thee ? 
Back — from founts to which He leads tboe ? 
Back — and leave thy heavenly Father ? 
Back — to earth and sin ? — Nay ; rather 



78 MY LAMBS. 



Woiild I live in solitude ! 
1 would not ask thee if I could; 
But patient wait the high decree, 
That calls my spirit home to thee I 



MY LAMBS. 

I LOVED them so, 
Tliat uhen the Elder Shepherd of the fold 
Came, covered with the storm, and pale and colJ^ 
And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold, 
I bade him go. 

He claimed the pet — 
A little fondling thing, that to my breast 
Clung always, either in (piiet or unrest — 
I thought of all my lambs I loved him best, 

And yet — and yet — 

I laid hun down 
In those white, slu'ouded arms, with bitter teare ; 
For some voice told me that, in after-yeai-s. 
Lie should know naught of passion, grief, or fears, 

As I had known. 

And yet again 
That Elder Shepherd came. Rly heart grew faint 



31 Y LAMBS. 79 



Ho claimed another lamb, wilJi sadder plaint, 
Another ! Shi who, gentle as a saint, 
Is^e'er gave me pain. 

Aghast T turned away I 
There sat she, lovely as an angel's dream, 
Her golden locks with sunlight all agleam, 
Her holy eyes with heaven in their beam. 

I knelt to pray. 

" Is it Thy will ? 
My Father, say, must this pet lamb be given ? 
Oh 1 Tliou hast many such, dear Lord, in heaven," 
And a soft voice said : "Nobly hast thou striven ', 

liut — i)eace, be still." 

Oh I how 1 wept, 
And clasped her to my bosom, with a wild 
And yearning love— my lamb, my ])leasant child 
Ilcr, too, 1 gave. The little angel smiled, 

And sl(;pt. 

" Go! go 1" I cried: 
For once again that Shepherd laid His hand 
U[)on the noblest of our househohl band. 
Like a pale si)cctre, there He took His stand, 

Close to his side. 

And ycit how wondrous sweet 
The look with which he hearil my [lassionate cry 



80 MY LAMBS. 



" Touch not my lamb ; for him, oli I let me die I ' 
" A little Avhile," He said, with smile and sigh, 
" Again to meet." 

Hopeless I fell ; 
And when I rose, the light had burned so low, 
So faint, I could not see my darling go : 
Hl' had not bidden me farewell, but oh 1 

I felt tarewell 

INIore doe[)ly, far, 
Than if my arms had compassed that slight frame : 
Though could 1 but have heard him call my name — 
" Dear mother I"— but in heaven 'twill be the same ; 

There burns my star ! 

He will not take 
Another lamb, I thought, for only one 
Of the dear fold is spared, to be my sun, 
My guide ; my mourner when this lil'e is done : 

My heart would break. 

Oh ! with what thrill 
I heard Him enter ; but I did not know 
(For it was dark) that He had robbed me so. 
The idol of my soul — he could not go — 

O heart ! be still ! 

Came morning. Can 1 tell 
How this poor frauio its sorrowful tenant kept ? 



3rr LAMss. 81 



For waking tears Averc mine ; I, sleeping, wept, 

And (lays, months, years, tliat weary vigil kept. 

Alas ! " Farewell." 

IIoAV often it is said ! 
I sit and think, and wonder too, sometime, 
How it will seem, when, in that happier clime, 
It never will ring out like funeral chime 

Over the dead. 

No tears ! no t(;ars ! 
Will there a day come that I shall not Avecp ? 
For I bedew my pillow in my sleep. 
Yes, yes ; thank God ! no grief that clime shedl 
keep, 

No weary }'ears. 

Ay ! it is well : 
Well with my lambs, and with their earthly guido 
There, pleasant rivers wander they beside, 
Or strike sweet harps upon its silver tide — 

Ay ! it is well. 

Tlirough the dreary day, 
They oftoi. come from glorious light to mo ; 
r cannot feel their touch, their faces see, 
\rct my soul whisj)ers, they do come to mo 

Heaven is not far away. 



82 THE CALL. 



THE A LL. 

THE niolit w;is dark ; behold, the shudc was 
deeper 
In the okl garden of Gethseniane, 
^Vlien that cahn voice awoke the wea^y sleeper: 
" Coiild'st thou not watch one hour alone with 
me ?" 

O thou ! so weary of thy self-denials, 
And so impatient of thy little cross, 

Is it so hanl to bear thy daily trials, 

To count all earthly things a gainful loss ? 

What if thou aJicai/s suiler tribulation. 
And If thy Christian warfare never cease 

Tlie gaining of the quiet habitation 
Shall gather thee to everlasting peace. 

But here we all must suller, walking lonely 
The path that Jesus once Himself hath gone : 

Watch thou in patience, through the daj-k hoiu' 
only — 
This one dark hoi\r — belbrc the eternal dawn^ 

Tlie captive's oar may pause upon the galley, 
The tioldler sleep beneath his phnued erest. 

And Peaeo may fold her wings o'er hill and valley 5 
But thou, O Christian ! must not take thy rest 



THE CALL 83 



Thou must walk on, liowever man npLinid tlice, 
AVith Illm who tnxl the wlno-jircas all alone; 

1l\\o\\ wilt not find one human hand to aid thco, 
One human soul to comprehend thine own. 

deed not the images for ever thronging 
From out the foregone life thou liv'st no more 

Faint-hearted mariner ! still art thou lontring 
For the dim line of the receding shore ? 

Wilt thou find rest of soul in thy returning 
To that old path thou hast so vainly trod ? 

llast thou forgotten all thy weary yearning 
To walk among the children of thy God: 

Faithful and steadfast in tiieir consecration, 
Living by that high faith to thee so dim, 

Declaring before God their dedication, 
So far from thee because so near to Ilim ? 

Canst thou forget thy Christian superscription, 
" Behold, we count them hap])y wjiich endure " ? 

What treasure wouldst thou, in the land Egyptian, 
Repass the stormy water to secure V 

And wilt thou yi(dd thy sure and glorious i)romiso 
For the poor, fleeting joys earth can afTord ? 

No hand can take away the treasure from tis, 
That rests within the keeping of the Lord. 



84 THE CALL. 



Poor, wandering soul ! I know that thou art seek- 
ing 

Some easier way, as all have sought before, 
To silence the reproachful Inward speaking — 

Some landward path unto an island shore. 

ITie cross is heavy in thy human measure, 
The way too narrow for thine Inward pride ; 

riiou canst not lay thine intellectual treasure 
At the low footstool of the Crucified. 

Oh ! that my faithless soul, one great hour only, 
Would comprehend the Christian's perfect life 

Despised with Jesus, sorrowful and lonely, 
Yet calmly looking upward in its strife ! 

For poverty and self-renunciation. 

The Father yielded back a thousand-fold ; 

In the calm stillness of regeneration, 
Cometh a joy we never knew of old. 

In meek obedience to the heavenly Teacher, 
Thy weary soul can find Its only peace ; 

Seeking no aid from any human creature — 
Looking to God alone for his release. 

And He will come in Tils own time and power 
To set His earnest-hearted children free : 

Watch only through this dark and painful hour, 
And the bright morning yet will break for thee. 



OOD'8 ANVIL. 85 



OD'S AN'^IL. 

i RAIN'S furnace-heat within me quivers, 
God's breath upon the fire doth blow. 
And all my heart in anguish shivers, 

And trembles at the fiery glow ; 
And yet I whisper, "As God willl" 
And in His hottest fire hold still. 

He comes, and lays my heart, all heated, 

On the bare anvil, minded so 
Into His own fiiir shape to beat it. 

With His great hammer, blow on blow ; 
And yet 1 whisper, "As God will !" 
And at His heaviest blows hold still. 

He takes my softened heart, and beats it. 

The sparks fly oflT at every blow. 
He turns it o'er and o'er, and heats it, 

And lets it cool, and makes it glow : 
And yet I whisper, "As God will ! " 
And in His mighty hand hold still. 

Why should I murmur ? for the sorrow 
Thus only longer-hved would be ; 

Its end may come, and will, to-morrow, 
When God has done His work in me 



TRS CROSS AND CRO WJ^. 



So I say trusting, "As God will I " 
And, trusting to the end, hold still. 

lie kindles, for my profit purely, 
Affliction's glowing, f ery brand ; 

And all His heaviest blows are surely 
Inllicted by a master-hand ; 

So I say, praying, "As God will ! " 

And hope in Ilim, and suller still. 



THE CROSS AXD CROWN: 

MUST Jesus bear the cross alonC; 
And all the Avorld go free ? 
No ; there's a cross for every one, 
And there's a cross tor me. 

How happy are the saints above, 
AVho once went sorrowing hero , 

But now they taste unminglcd love 
And joy without a tear. 

The consecrated cross I'll bear, 
Till death shall set me free ; 

And then go home, my crown to wear 
For there's a crown for me. 



EVSK ME. 87 



Upon the crystal pavement, down 

At Jesus' pierced feet, 
Jojful I'll cast my golden crown, 

And Ills dear name repeat ; 

And pAhns shall wave, and harps shall rhig, 
Beneath heaven's arches high ; 

'Hie Lord that lives, the ransomed sing, 
That lives no more to die. 



EVEN ME. 

LOUD ! I hear of showers of blessing 
Thou art scattering, full and free ; 
Showers the thirsty soul refreshing — 
Let some droppings fall on me, 

Even me. 

Pass me not, O gracious Father ! 

Lost and sinful though I be ; 
Thou mightst curse me, but the rather 

Let Thy mercy light on me, 

Even mo. 

Pass me not, O tender Saviour 1 
Let me love and cling to Thee ; 



88 EVEI^ ME. 



Fain I'm longing for Tliy favor ; 
When Thou callest, call for me, 

Even mo. 

Pass me not, O mighty Spirit ! 

Thou canst make the blind to see; 
Testify of Jesus' merit, 

Speak the word of peace to me, 

Even me 

Have I long in sin been sleeping, 
Long been slighting, grieving Thee ? 

Has the world my heart been keeping 
Oh ! forgive and rescue me, 

Even me. 

Love of God ! so pure and changeless ; 

Love of Christ ! so rich and free : 
Grace of God ! so strong and boundless 

Magnify it all in me, 

Even me. 

Pass me not, almighty Spirit ! 

Draw this lifeless heart to Thee ; 
Impute to me the Saviour's merits ; 

Blessing others, oh ! bless me, 

Even me. 



TKE PEACE OF OOD. 89 



MY SAVIOUR, CRUCIFIED. 

0!MY Saviour, crucified ! 
Near Thy cross may I abide \ 
There to gaze, with steadfast eye, 
On Thy dying agony. 

Jesus, bruised and put to shame, 
Tells me all the Fathei-'s name ; 
God is love, I surely know, 
By my Saviour's depths of woe J 

In Ilis sinless soul's distress, 
I behold my guiltiness ; 
Oh ! how vile my low estate, 
Since my ransom was so great. 

Dwelling on Mount Calvary, 
Contrite shall my spirit be ; 
Rest and holiness shall find, 
Fashioned like my Saviour's mind. 



THE PEACE OF COD. 

WE ask for peace, Lord I 
Thy children ask Thy peace 
Not what the world calls rest, 
That toil and care should ceaso. 



'JO 27?-^ PEACE OF GOD. 



That through bi-ight sunny hours, 

Cahu life should tleet aAvay, 
And tranquil night should fade 

In smiling day. 
It Is not for such peace that we would pray 

We ask for peace, O Lord ! 

Yet not to stand secure, 
Girt round with iron pride, 

Contented to endure ; 
Crushing the gentle strings 

That human hearts should know ; 
Untouched by others' joys, 

Or others' woe. 
Thou, O dear Lord ! wilt never teach us so. 

^Ye ask Thy peace, O Lord ! 

Tlu'ough storm and fear and strife, 
To light and guide us on 

Through a long, struggling life; 
While no success or gain 

Shall cheer the desperate fight, 
Or nerve what the world calls 

Our wasted might ; 
Yet pressing through the darkness to the IJglit 

It. is Thhie own, O Lord 1 
Who toil while others sleep ; 



PEACE. 91 

Who sow, witb living care, 

Wliat other hands shall reap ; 
They lean on Thee, entranced 

In cahn and j)erfect rest ; 
Give us that peace, O Lord 1 

Divine and blest, 
Thou keepest tor those hearts that love Thee 

[best. 

— ♦ — 

PEACE. 

LIFE'S mystery — deep, restless as the ocean — 
Hath surged and wailed for ages to and 
fro ; 
Earth's generations watch its ceaseless motion, 

As in and out its hollow moanings flow. 
Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea. 
Let my soul calm itself, O (lod ! in Thee. 

Life's sorrows, with inexorable power, 
Sweep desolation o'er this mortal plain ; 

And human loves and hopes fly as the chafl* 
Borne by the whirlwind from the ripened graii 

Oh ! when before that blast my hopes all flee, 

Let my sotiI calm itself, O Christ ! in Thee. 

Betwe<en the mysteries of death and life 
Thou standest, loving, guiding, not explaining : 



92 PEAOJi:. 



We ask, and thou art silent ; }'ot wc gazo, 

And our charmed hearts forget their drear coni- 

phiiuing. 
No crushing llite, no stony destiny, 
Thou " Lamb that hath been skiin 1" wo rest iu 

Thee. 

The many waves of thought, the mighty tides, 
The ground-swell that rolls up from other lands, 

From far-oir worlds, from dim, eternal shores, 
Whose ooho tlashes o'er life's wave-worn strands ; 

This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea 

Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Loril ! in Theo. 

Tliy pierced hand guides the mysteinous wheels, 
Thy thorn-crowned brow now weai-s the crown 
of power ; 
And when the dark enigma prcsseth sore. 

Thy patient voice saith: '' Watch with nie one 
hour." 
As sinks the moaning river in the sea. 
In silent peace, so sinks my ooul in Thee. 



PRAYER FOR STRENOTn. 93 



PRAYER FOR STRENGTH. 

FATHER 1 before thy footstool kneeliug, 
Once more my heart j;oes up to Thee ; 
For aid, for streii^^th, to Thee appealing, 
Thou who ah)ne canst succor me. 

Hear me ! for heart and Mesh arc falling— 

My spirit yielding in the strife; 
And anguish, wild as unavailing, 

Sweeps in a flood across my life. 

Help me to stem the tide of sorrow ; 

Help me to bear Thy chastening rod •, 
Give me endurance ; let me borrow 

Strength from thy promise, O my CAod! 

Not ?nine the grief which words ma} lighten; 

Not mine the tears of common woe: 
The pang with which my heart-strings tighten, 

Only the All-seeing One may know. 

And 1 am weak ; my feeble spirit 

Shrinks from life's task in wild dismay: 

Yet not that Thou that task wouldst spare it, 
My Father, do I diirc to pray. 

Into my soul Thy might infusing. 

Strengthening my sjiirit by Thine own, 



94 PRAYER FOR STRENGTH. 



Help mc — all other aid refusing — 
To cling to Thee, and Thee alone. 

And oh ! in my exceeding weakness, 
Make Thy strength perfect: Thou art strong 1 

Aid me to do Thy will with meekness, 
Thou, to whom all my po^^»crs belong. 

Saviour I our human form once wearing, 
Help, by the memory of that day, 

When, painfully Thy dark cross bearing, 
E'en for a time Thy strength gave way. 

Beneath a lighter burden sinking, 

Jesus, I cast myself on Thee ; 
Forgive, forgive this useless shrinking 

From trials that I know must be. 

Oh ! let me feel that Thou art near me, 

Close to Thy side I shall not fear. 
Hear me, O Strength of Israel ! hear me ; 

Sustain and aid 1 in mercy, hear I 



ONWARD. 95 



ON WARD. 



rriRAVELER, faint not on tlie road, 
JL Droop not In the parching aim ; 
Onward, onward with thy load, 

Till the night be won. 
Swerve not, though thy bleeding feet 

Fain the narrow path would leave ; 
From the burden and the heat, 

Thou shalt rest at eve. 

Midst a world that round thee Aides, 

Brightening stars and twilight life j 
W^hen a sacred calm pervades 

All that now is strife ; 
Rich the joy to be revealed 

In that hour from labor free, 
Bright the splendors that shall yield 

Happiness to thee. 

Master of a holy charm. 

Yet be patient on thy way ; 
Use the spell, and check the harm 

That woidd lead astray. 
From the petty cares that teem, 

Turn thee, with prophetic eyo, 
To the glory of that dream 

Which shall never die. 



Vv on IFF WJS SKYT TllEE FOR THY GOOD. 



By tlio mysterv of thy tru^t ; 

By the orantU'iir of that Iiour 
When mortality aiul dust 

Clothed eternal power ; 
By the purple robe of shame, 

I'he mockery, and the insulting red 
By the anguish that o'ereame 

The incarnate God: 

Faint not ! fail not ! be thou strong, 

Cast away distrust and fear; 
Though the weary day seems long, 

Yet the night is near. 
Friends and kimlred wait beyond — 

They who passed the trial pure ; 
Traveler, by that lioly bond, 

Shrink not to endure. 



GRIEF WAS SENT TUEE FOR THY GOOD 

SOMK there are wdio seem exempted 
From the doom ineiuTed by all : 
Are they not more sorely tempted ? 

Are they not the first to fall ? 
As a mother's firm -denial 

Cheeks her infant's wayAvard mood, 
Windom lurks in every trial — 
Grief wjis sent thee Cor thy good. 



SCENES " ON JORDAN S STRAND." 97 



In the scenes of f'onnor jjleasure. 

Present anjjjiilsli hast thou felt; 
O'er thy fond heart's dearest treasure, 

As a mourner, hast then knelt; 
In thy hour of deej) aOlietion, 

Let no impious thoughts intrude : 
Meekly bow, with this eonvietion — 

Grief was sent thee for thy good. 



SCENES " ON JORDAN'S STRAND:' 

ri^IIICRE came a little child, with sunny hair, 
JL All fearless to the brink of Death's dark 

river, 
And with a sweet confiding in the care 

Of Iliin who is of life the Joy and Giver; 
And, as upon the waves she left our sight, 
We heard her say : " My Saviour makes thera 
brl.dit." 



Next came a youth, with bearing most serene, 
Nor turned a single backward look of sadntiss 

But, as he left each gay and flowery scene, 

Smiling dechared : " My soul is thrilled witf; 
gladness I 



08 scENi:s "oy Jordan's strand.' 



Wlmi earth deems bright, for over I resign 
Joyful but this to know, that Christ is niinc." 

An aged luouriier, trembhng. tottered by, 
And paused a moment by the swelHng river 

Then gbded on beneath the shadowy sky, 

Singing : " Christ .Jesus is my strength for evci 

Upon His arm my feeble soul I lean. 

Rly glanee meets His, without a cloud between." 

And scarce her last triumphant note had died, 
Kre hastened on a man of wealth and learning 

^Vho cast at once his bright renown aslile, 
These only words unto his friends returning 

" Christ for my Wisdom thankiiiUy I own. 

And as 'a little child' I seek His throne." 



Then saw I this : that, whether guileless child, 
Or youth, or age, or genins, won salvation, 

l<jaeh self-renouneing came ; on each God smiled 
Each found the love of Christ rich compensation 

For loss of friends, earth's pleasures, and renown: 

Each entered heaven, and *' by His side sat down." 



TmaaE is light beyond. 99 



THERE IS LIGHT BEYOND. 

BEYOND the stars that sliinc In {golden glor^-, 
licyond tlie cahn sweet moon, 
Up tlie brijjjht huhler saints have ti-od before theo, 

Soul ! thou shalt venture soon. 
Secure with Him who sees thy heart-sick yearning, 

Safe in His arms of love, 
Thou shalt exchange the midnight for the morning, 
And thy fair home above. 

Oh! it is sweet to watch the world's night wearing 

'J'he Sabbath morn come on, 
And sweet it wc^re the vineyard labor sharing — 

Sweeter the labor done. 
All fiiilsluMl ! all the conllict and the sorrow , 

Earth's dream of anguish o'er ; 
Deathless there dawns for thee a nightless morrow 

On Eden's blissful shore. 

Patience! then, patience ! soon the pang of dying 

Shall all forgotten be. 
And thou, through rolling spheres rejoicing, flying 

Beyond the wnvelesa sea, 



100 THERE IS LIGHT BEYOND. 



1 



Shalt know hereafter where thy Lord doth lead 
thee, 
His darkest dealings trace 
And by those fountains where Ilis love will feed 
thee, 
Behold Ilim face to face. 



Then bow thine head, and God shall give thee 
meekness, 

Bravely to do His will ; 
So shall arise His glory in thy weakness — 

O struyoling soul ! be still. 
Dark clouds are His pavilion shining o'er theo, 

Thine heart must recognize 
The veiled Shechinah moving on before thee, 

Too briy;ht to meet thine eves. 



Behold the wheel that straightly moves, and fleetly 

Performs the Sovereign Word ; 
Tliou know'st His suffering love ! then suffering 
meekly, 

Follow tliy loving Lord 1 
Watch on the tower, and listen by the gateway, 

Nor weep to wait alone ; 
Take thou thy spices, and some angel straightway 

Shall roll away the stone. 



" TUY WILL BE DONE:' 101 

Then shalt thou tell thy hvinjr Lord hath risen, 

And risen but to save ; 
Tell of the might that breaks the Captive's prison, 

And life beyond the grave ! 
Tell how lie jnet tliee, all His radiance shrouded; 

I low in thy sorrow came 
His pitying voice breathing, when faith wae 
clouded, 

Thine own ianidlar name. 

So at the grave's dark portal thou may'st linger, 

And liymn some happy strain ; 
The passing world may mock the feeble singer — 

Heed not, but sing again. 
Thus wait, thus watch, till He the last link sever. 

And changeless rest be won ; 
ITien in His glory thou shalt bask lor ever, 

Fear not the clouds — phkss on I 



''TUY WILL BE DONEP 

FOUR little words, no more — 
Easy to say ; 
But thoughts that went before, 
Can words convey? 



102 '■'THY WILL BE D02fE." 



TLe struggle, only known 

To one proud soul, 
And Ilim whose eye alone 

Has marked the whole, 

Before that stubborn will 

At length was broke, 
And a low " Peace, be still I" 

One soil Voice spoke *, 

The pang, when that sad heart 

Its dreams resigned. 
And strength was found, to part 

Those bonds long twined, 

To yield that treasure up. 

So foniUy clasped. 
To drain that hitter cup. 

So sadly grasped ! 

But all is calm at last, 

" Thy will be done 1" 
Knough, the storm is past, 

The field is won. 

Now for the peaceful breast, 

The quiet sleep ; 
For soul and spirit rest, 

Tranquil and deep. 



TEEY SHALL BE MINE I 103 



Rest, whose full bliss and power 

They only know, 
Who knew the bitter liour 

Of restless woe. 

The rebel will subdued — 
The fond heart free — 
'* Thy will be done !" — all good 
That comes from Thee. 

All weary thought and care, 

Lord, we resign ; 
Ours is to do, to bear. 

To choose is thine. 

Four little words, no more — 

Easy to say ; 
But what Avas felt before, 

Can words convey V 



THEY SHALL BE MINE'. 

" rplIEY shall be mine I" Oh 1 lay them 
1 d(j\vn to slumber, 

Cahu in tlie strong assurance tliat lie gives; 
He calls them by their names, lie knows their 
number, 
Atui they slnll live as surely as lie lives- 



04 THEY SHALL BE MINE I 



" Thej^ shall be mine !" upraised fiom earthly 
pillows, 
Gathered from desert sand, from moimtains 
cold — 
Called from the graves beneath old ocean's billows, 
C'idled from each distant land, each scattered 
fold. 

AVel) might the soul, that wondrous spark of 
being, 

Lit by Ills breath who claims it for Ilis own, 
Shine in the circle Avliich His love foreseeing. 

Destined to glitter brightest by His throne. 

But shall the dust from earthly dust first taken 
And now long mingled with its native earth, 

To life, to beauty, once again awaken, 
Thrill with the rapture of a second birth ? 

" Tliey shall be mine !" they, as on earth we knew 
them — 

Tlie lips we kissed, the hands we loved to press — 
Only a fuller life be circling through them, 

Unfading youth, unchanging holiness. 

"They shall be mine !" children of sin and sorrow 
Giv'st Thou, O Lord I heaven's ahuost verge to 
them ? 



LEAVE ME NOT ROW. 105 



No from each rilled grave Thy crown shall 
borrow 
An added light — a prized and costly gem. 

They shall be mine !" Thought fails and feeling 

falters, 
Striving to sound and fathom love divine; 
All that we know — no time Tliy promise altera — 
All that we trust, our loved ones shall be Thine. 



LEAVE ME NOT NOW. 

LEAVE me not now, while still the shade is 
creeping 
O'er the sad heart that longs to rest in Thee *, 
Hear my complaint, and while my soul is weeping, 
Breathe Thou the holy dew of symjjatliy. 

Leave me not now, Thou Saviour of compassion, 
While yet the busy tempter lurketh near ; 

Lord, by Thine anguish and Thy wond'rous passion. 
Do I entreat Thee now to linger here. 

Jesus, Thou soul of love, Thou heart of feeling, 
Let me repose the weary night away 

Safe on Thy bosom, all my woes revealing, 
Secure from danger, till the dawn of day. 



1 06 FAITH S REPOSE. 



Then leave mc not, O Comforter and Father, 
Parent of love ! I live but in Thy sight • 

Good Shepherd, to Thy fold the wand'rer gather, 
There to adore Thee, morning, noon, and night 



FAITH'S REPOSE. 

FATHER, beneath Thy shelteiinf:^ ^viIlg 
In sweet security we rest. 
And fear no evil earth can bring, 
In life, in death, supremely blest. 

For life is good, whose tidal flow 
The motions of Tliy will obeys ; 

And death is good, that makes us know 
The Love Divine that all things sways. 

And good it is to bear the cross. 
And so Thy perfect peace to win : 

And naught is ill, nor brings us loss, 
Nor works us harm, save only sin. 

Redeemed from this, we ask no more, 
But trust the love that saves to guide — 

Tlic grace that yields so rich a store, 
Will grant us all we need beside. 



7772: DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 107 



THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 

I SEE them far away, 
In their cahii beauty, on the evening skies, 
Across the golden west their summits rise, 

Bright with the radiance of departing day. 
And often, ere the sunset light was gone, 
Gazing and longing, I have hastened on, 
As with new strength, all weariness and pain 
Forgotten in the hope those bli-ssful heights to gain. 

Heaven lies not far beyond, 
But these are hills of earth, our changeful air 
Circles around them, and the dwellers there 

Still own mortality's mysterious bond. 
Tlie ceaseless contact, the continued strife, 
Of sin and grace, which can but close with life, 
Is not yet ended, and the Jordan's roar 
Still sounds between their path and the Celestial 
shore. 

But there, the pilgrims say. 
On these calm heights, the tumult and the noiso 
Of all our busy cares and restless joys 

Has almost in the distance died away ; 
All the past journey " a right way " appears, 
Thoughts of the future wake no laithless fears, 



108 TEE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 



And tlirough the clouds, to their rejoicing eyea, 
The city's golden streets and pearly gates arise. 

Courage, poor fainting heart ! 
These happy ones in the far distance seen 
Were sinful wanderers once, as thou hast been, 

Weary and sorro^vful, as now thou art. 
Linger no longer on the lonely plain, 
Press boldly onward, and thou too shalt gain 
Their vantage-ground, and then, with vigor new, 
All thy remaining race and pilgrimage pursue. 

Ah ! far too faint, too poor 
Are all our \-iews and aims — we only stand 
Within the borders of the promised land. 

Its precious things we seek not to secure ; 
And thus our hands hang down, and oft unstrung 
Our harps are left the willow-trees among . 
Lord, lead us forward, upward, till we know 
How much of heavenly bliss may be enjoyed be- 
low. 



•' And thsn, said they, we will, If the day be clear, show you 

the Delectable Mountains So he looked, and behold, at a 

great distance he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, 
.... very delect;ible to behold, .... and it is as commcn, said 
Uiey, as tliis lull is^ to and for all the pilgrims. An:! when thou 
comcst there, from thence thou mayest see to the gate of the 
Celestial City."— 5«nya». 



TEE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 109 



THE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL. 

AMID the shadows and the fears 
That overcloud this home of tears, 
Amid my poverty and sin, 
The tempest and the war within, 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God I 

Drifting across a sunless sea. 
Cold, heavy mist, encurtaining mo ; 
Toiling along lile's broken road, 
"With snares around, and foes abroad, 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God 

Mine is a day of fear and strife, 

A needy soul, a needy life, 

A needy world, a needy age ; 

YqX in my perilous pilgrimage, 
I cast my soid on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God ! 



110 THE ANCHOR WITUiy THE VEIL, 



To Thee I come — ah ! only Thou 
Canst wipe the sweat from olV this brow 
Thou, only Thou, canst make me whole, 
-And soothe the lever of my soul ; 
I cast my soul on Thee, 
]\lighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God 1 

On Thee I rest — Thy love and grace 
Ai'e my sole rock and resting-place ,* 
In Thee my thirst and hunger soro, 
Lord, let me quench for evermore. 
1 cast my soul on Thee, 
Mighty to save e'en me, 
Jesus, Thou Son of God 1 

'Tis earth, not heaven ; 'tis night, not noon 

The sorrowless is coming soon ; 

But, till the morn of love appears. 

Which erids the travail and the tears, 
1 cjii^t my soul on Thee, 
INiighty to save e'en me, 
Jet?us, Thou Son of God ! 



1 



GOD'S WAYS. Ill 



GOD'S WAYS. 

HO \V few who frowi their youthful day 
Look on to what their life may bo, 
Painting the visions of Uie way 

In eoloi-s soil, and bright, and free ; 
IIow few who to such paths have brought 
The hopes and dreams of early thought ! 
For God, through ways they have not knowu, 
AVIll lead Ills own. 

The eager hearts, the souls of fire 
Who i)ant to toil for (lod and man, 

And view with eyes of keen desire 
The u[)land Avay of toil and [)ain ; 

Almost with scorn they think of rest, 

Of holy calm, of tranipiil breast ; 

But God, through ways they have not known, 
W ill lead His own. 

A lowlier task on them Is laid. 

Wit h love to make the labor light , 

,\nd then their beauty they must shed, 
On quiet homes and lost to sight. 

Changed are their visions high and fair, 

Yet calm and still they laUor there ; 

For God, through ways they have not known, 
Will lead His own. 



112 GOD'S WAYS. 



The gentle lioart that thinks "vvith paiii 
It scarce can lowliest tasks tiiKil, 

And it" it dared its lire to scan 

AA'oiild ask but i)athway low and still ; 

Otlcn such lowly heart is brought 

To act with power beyond its thought ; 

For God, through ways they have not known. 
Will lead His own. 

And they the bright, who long to prove 

In joyous path, in cloudless lot, 
How fresh from earth their grateful lovo 

Can spring without a stain or spot ; 
Often such youthful heart is given 
Tlxe path of grief to walk to heaven ; 
For God, through ways they have not known, 
Will lead His own. 

What matter what tlio path shall be ? 

The end is clear and bright to view : 
He knows that "vve a strength shall see 

^Vhate'er the day shall bring to do: 
We see the end, the house of God, 
Hut not the path to that abode ; 
For God, through ways they have not l^nowii, 
Will lead His own. 



DISTBACTIOXS IN PR A YER. 1 1 3 



DISTRACTIONS IN PRAYER. 

rCAXNOT pray; yet Lord, thou kiiow'sl 
The pain it is to me, 
To have my vainly slrii;r<rllng thoughts 
Thus torn away from Thee. 

Prayer was not meant for hixury 

Of selfish pastime sweet ; 
It is the prostrate creature's phico 

At his Creator's feet. 

Had I, dear Lord, no pk%'isure found 

But in the tlioughts of Thee, 
Prayer wouhl have come unsought, and beeu 

A truer hberty. 

Yet Thou art oft most present, Lord, 

Li weak distracted prayer; 
A sinner out of heart with self, 

Most often finds Thee there. 

And prayer that humbles sets the sonl 

From all illusions free. 
And teaches it how utterly. 

Dear Lord, it hangs on Thco. 



114 JifT GUEST. 



The soul that on self-sacrifice 

Is dutifully bent, 
Will bless the chastening hand that makes 

Its prayer its punishment. 

Ah, Jesus ! why should I complain ? 

And why fear aught but sin ? 
Distractions are but outward things ; 

Thy peace dwells far within ! 

These surface troubles come and go 

Like rufilings of the sea ; 
The deeper depth is out of reach 

To all, my God, but Thee I 



3fY GUEST. 

I HAVE a wonderful Guest, 
Who speeds my feet, who moves my hands, 
Wlio strengthens, comforts, guides, commands, 
Whose presence gives me rest. 

He dwells within my soul ; 

He swept away the filth and gloom. 
He garnished fair the empty room. 

And now pervades the whole. 



MT QUEST. 115 



For aye, by day and night, 
He keeps the portal — suffers naught 
Defile the temple He has bought, 

And filled with joy and light. 

Once 'twas a cavern dim ; 
The home of evil thoughts, desires, 
Enkindled by infernal fires, 

Without one thought of Him. 

Regenerated by His grace, 
Still 'tis a meagre inn, at best, 
AVlierein the King's to make His rest, 

And show His glorious face. 

Yet, Saviour, ne'er depart 
From this poor earthly cottage homo, 
Until the Father bid me come, 

AYhlsp'rIng within my heart : 

" I shake these cottage walls ; 
Fear not! at My command tliey bow ', 
My heavenly mansions open now, 

As this poor dwelling falls." 

Then my dear wondrous Guo?t 
Shall bear me on His own right hand 
Unto that fair and Promised Land, 

Where I in Him shall rest. 



116 COMING. 



COMING. 

" Ax even, or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or iu iLe 
inoraing." 

4 b ~p'p xix^y be in \\xq evening, 

I Wlien the work of the day is dono, 
And you have time to sit in the twilight 

And watch the sinking sun, 
While the long bright day dies slowly 

Over the sea, 
And the hour grows quiet and holy 

With thoughts of me ; 
While you hear the village children 

Passing along the street. 
Among those tlironging footsteps 

May come the sound of my feet 
Therefore I tell you : ^Vateh 

By the light of the evening star. 
When the room is growing dusky 

As the clouds afar ; 
Let the door be on the latch 

In your home, 
For it may be through the gloaming 

1 will come. 

" It may be when the midnight 
Is heavy upon the land, 



COMING. 117 



And the black waves lying dumbly 

Along the sand ; 
Wlicn the moonless night draws close, 
And the lights are out in the house ; 
When the fires burn low and red, 
And the watch is ticking loudly 

Beside the hod : 
Though you sleep, tired out, on your couch, 
Still your heart must wake and watch 

In the dark room. 
For it may be that at midnight 

I will come. 

" It may be at the cock-crow, 
When the night is dying slowly 

In the sky, 
And the sea looks calm and holy, 

Waiting for the dawn 

Of the golden sun 

Which draweth nigh ; 
WTien the mists are on the valleys, shading 

The rivers chill. 
And my morning-star is fading, fading 

Over the hill : 
Behold I say unto you : Watch ; 
Let the door be on the latch 

In your home ; 
In fhe chill before the dawning, 



118 COMING. 



Between the niglit and morning, 
1 m'ly coane. 

^'It m?y be m the morning, 

When tne sun is bright and strong 
And the dew is glittering sharply 

Over the little lawn ; 
When the waves are laughing loudly 

Along the shore, 
And the little birds are singing sweetly 

About the door ; 
With the lorg day's work before you, 

You rise up with the sun, 
And the neighbors come in to talk a little 

Of all that must be done, 
But remember that / may be the next 

To come in at the door. 
To call you (rom all your busy work 

For evermore : 
As you work your heart must watch 
For the door is on the latch 

In your room. 
And it may be in tlie morning 

I will come.' 

So lie passed down my cottage garden, 
By the path, that leads to the sea 



ooMmo. 119 



Till Ho came to the turn of the little toad 
Wliere the birch and labiirnuiu tree 

Loan over and arch the way ; 

There I saw him a moment stay, 
And turn once more to me, 
As I wept at the cottage door, 

And lift up His hands in blessing— 
Tlien 1 saw His face no more. 



And T stood still in tlie doorway, 

Leaning against the wall. 

Not heeding the fair white roses. 

Though I crushed them and let them fall ; 
Only looking down the pathway. 

And looking toward the sea, 
And wondering, and wondering 

When ITc would come back for mc ; 
Till I was aware of an Angel 

Who was going swiftly by. 
With the gladness of one who goeth 

In the light of God Most High. 



Ho passed the end of the cottage 
Toward the garden gate — 
(I suppose he was come down 
At the setting of the sun 



120 COMJXO. 



I 



To comfort some one in the village 

"Wliose dwelling was desolate) — 
And he paused before the door 

Beside my place, 
And the li]<eness of a smile 

^Vas on his face : 
" Weep not," he said, " for unto you is jijiven 

To watch for the coming of His feet 
Who is the glory of our blessed heaven ; 

The woik and watching will be ■\'Ci'y 
sweet, 

Even in an earthly home ; 
And in such an hour as you think not 

He will come." 



So I am watching quietly 

Every day. 
Whenever the sun shines brightly, 

I rise and say : 
" Surely it is the shining of Ills face !" 

And look unto the gates of His high place 

Beyond the sea ; 
For 1 know He is coming shortly 

To summon me. 
And when a shadow falls across the window 

Of my room, 
VN'herc I am working my appointed task, 



A QUIET MIND. 121 



I Uil my liead to watch the door aud ask 

If He is come ; 
And the Angel answers sweetly 

In my home : 
" Only a few more shadows, 

And He will come." 



A QUIET MIND. 

I II AVE a treasure which I prize ; 
Its like I cannot find : 
There's nothing like it on the earth ; 
'Tis tliis^a quiet mind. 

But 'tis not that I'm stupefied, 
Or senseless, dull, or blind ; 

'Tis God's own peace within my heart, 
AVliich forms my quiet mind. 

I found this treasure at the cross : 

And there, to every kind 
Oi' weary, heavy-laden souls, 

Christ givbs a quiet mind. 

My Saviour's death and risen life, 

To give it were designed ; 
His love, the never-failing spring 

Of this, my qui el mind. 



122 A QUIET MmD. 



The love of God within my breast, 
My heart to Him doth bind; 

This id the peace of heaven on earth— 
This is my quiet mind. 

I've many a cross to take up now, 

And many left behind ; 
But present troubles move me not, 

Nor shake my quiet mind. 

And what may be to-morrow's cross, 

I never seek to find ; 
My Saviour says : " Leave that to mo. 

And keep a quiet mind." 

And well I know the Lord hath said, 
To make my heart resigned, 

That mercy still shall follow those 
"\T ho have this quiet mind. 

J meet with pride of wit aiid wealth, 
And scorn, and looks unkind ; 

It matters not — I envy none, 
"NVliile I've a quiet mind. . 

I'm waiting now to see my Lord, 

So patient and so kind ; 
I want to thank Ilim face to faco, 

For this my quiet mind. 



ALL rs LI GUT. 123 



ALL IS LIGHT. 

WHAT though storm-clouds gather round 
me, 
Hovering darkly o'er my way? 
While I see the cross of Calvary 
Beaming with celestial ray, 
All is light, all is light I 

What though mortal powers may falter ? 

Earthly plans and prosi)ects fail '? 
With a heaven-born hope which entcretb 

E'en to that within the veil, 
All is light, all is light ! 

Wliat though all my future pathway 

Be from mortal sight concealed ? 
With the love of Jesus glowing, 

As it lies to faith revealed. 
All is light, all is light! 

E'en though death's deep vale before me 
Seem o'erspread with thickest gloom, 

VMiile I see a heavenly radiance 
Bursting from beyond the tomb, 
All is Ught, all is light 1 



124 LONGINGS. 



L ONGINQS. 

rXXIIEN shall I bo at rest? My trembling 
VV beart 

Grows weary of its burden, sickening still 
With hopes deferred. Oh ! that it were Thy 
will 
To loose my bonds, and take me where Thou art ! 

When shall I be at rest? My eyes grow dim 
With straining through the gloom ; I scarce can 

see 
The wa}Tnarks that my Saviour left for me. 

Would it were morn, and I were safe with Him I 

When shall I be at rest ? Hand over hand 
I grasp, and cUmb an ever steeper hill, 
A rougher path. Oh ! that it were Tliy will 

JMy tired feet might tread the Promised Land! 

Oh. ! that I were at rest ! A thousand fears 
Come thronging o'er me, lest I fall at last. 
Would 1 were safe, all toil and danger past, 

And Tliine own hands might wipe away my tears. 



LOJiToijros. 126 



Oh ! that I were at rest, like some I love, 
Whose last fond looks drew half my life away, 
Seeming to plead that cither they might stay 

With me on earth, or 1 with them above. 

But why these murmurs ? Thou didst never 
shrink 
From any toil or weariness for n\e — 
Not even from that last deep agony. 

Shall I beneath my httle trials sink V 

No, Lord ; for when I am indeed at rest, 
One taste of that deep bliss wdl quite eflaco 
Tlie sternest memories of my earthly race, 

Save but to swell the sense of being blest. 

Then lay on me whatever cross I need 

To bring me there. I know Thou canst not be 
Unkind, unfaithlul, or untrue to me 1 

Sliall J not toil for Thee, when Thou for me cL'dst 
bleed ? 



126 BEILOES. 



BR2D G E8. 

I HAVE a bridge within my heart, 
Known as the Bridge of Sighs ; 
It stretches from hfe's sunny part, 
To where its darkness lies. 

And when upon this bridge I stand, 

To watch hfe's tide below, 
Sad thoughts come from the shadowy land 

And darken all its flow. 

Then, as it winds its way along 

To sorrow's bitter sea, 
Oh ! mournful is the spirit-song 

That upwaid floats to me. 

A song which breathes of blessings dead, 
Of friends and friendships flown ; 

And pleasures gone ! — their distant tread, 
Now to an echo grown. 

And hearing thus, beleaguering fears 

Soon shut the present out, 
Wliile joy but in the past appears, 

And in the future doubt. 

Oh ! often then will deeper grow, 
The night that round me lies j 

I wish that hfe had run its flow, 
Or never found its rise 1 



BRIDGES. 12'2 



I have a bridge within my heart, 
Known as the Bridge of Faith j 

It spans, by a mysterious art, 
The streams of life and death. 

And when upon this bridge I stand, 

To watch the tide below, 
Sweet thoughts come from the sunny land, 

And brighten all its flow. 

Then, as it winds its way along 

Down to a distant sea, 
Oh 1 pleasant is the spirit-song 

That upward floats to me. 

A song of blessings never sere, 

Of love " beyond compare," 
Of pleasures flowed from troublings here/ 

To rise serenely there. 

And, hearing thus, a peace divine 

Soon shuts each sorroAv out ; 
And all is hopeful and benign, 

Where all was fear and doubt. 

Oh ! often then will brighter groi? 

The light that round me lies , 
I see from life's beclouded flow 

A crystal stream arise. 



128 ''FATHER, TAKE MY hand: 



"FAT/f/iJR, TAKI^ MV HAN IV 

rr"^IlE way is dark, my Father! Cloiul oncloiwl 
-J_ Is gatluu'ir.g thickly o'er my head, and loud 
Tlie thunders roar above me. Sec, I stand 
Like one bewihlered ! Father, take my hand, 
And throu<j;h the ffloom 
Lead safely home 
Thy child 1 

The day goes last, my Father 1 antl the night 
Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight 
Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band, 
Encompass me. O Father 1 take my hand, 

And from the night 

Lead up to light 
Thy child ! 

The way is long, my Father 1 and my soul 
Longs for the rest and (juiet of the goal : 
While yet I journey through this weary land, 
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my baud ' 

Quickly and straight 

Lead to heaven's gate 
Thy child I 



•' FA THKR. TA KE M Y II A .V/>." 1 2 9 

Tho path is rough, my Falhov 1 ISIany a tl.oni 
lias pierced me ; ami my weary feet, all torn 
Ami l)le('.lin.r, .nark the way. Yet thy commau.l 
Bids mo press (brwai'd. Father, take my haii.l ; 

Then, sale and blest, 

l>ead lip to rest 
Thy child 1 

The thron- is -reat, my Father ! Many a doubt 
And fear and danger compass me about. ; 
And foes oppri'ss me sore. 1 cannot stand 
Or -o alone. O Father! take my hand, 

And through the throng 

Lead sal'o along 
Thy child! 

The cross is heavy. Father ! I have bwuc^ 
[t long, and still do bear it. Let my worn 
Ami fainting spirit rise to that blest land 
Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand ; 

And, reaching down 

Lead to the crown 
Tliy child 1 



130 TEE ORAOIOUS AKSWER, 



THE GRACIOUS ANSWER. 

lite way is dark, my child! hut leads to light. 
1 would not always have thee walk by sight. 
My dealings now thou canst not understand. 
I meant it so ; hut I will take thy hand, 

And through the gloom 

Lead safely home 
My child! 

The day goes fast, my child! But is the night 
Darker to me than day ? In me is light ! 
Keep close to me, and every spectral hand 
Of fears shall vatiish. I will take thy hand. 

And through the night 

Lead up to light 
My child! 

Ilie way is long, my child ! But it shall he 
No', one step longer than is best for thee , 
A nd thou shalt know, at last, when thou shalt stand 
Safe at the goal, hoiv I did take thy hand^ 

And quick and straight 

Lead to heaven's gate 
My chUd I 



THE GBA0I0U3 ANSWER. 131 



77/c path is rough, my child ! But oh ! hoii swecf 
Will he the rest, for weary pilgrims meet, 
]Vhen thou shall reach the borders of that land 
To which I lead thee, as I take thy hand , 

And safe and blest 

With me shall rest 
My child ! 

TTie throng is great, my child ! But at thy side 
Thy Father walks : then be not terrified ' 
For I am with thee ; will thy foes command 
To let thee freely pass ; ivill take thy hand, 

And through the throng 

Lead safe along 
My child ! 

The cross is heavy, child ! Yet there was One 
Who bore a heavier for thee : my Son, 
My Well-beloved. For ITun bear thine ; and stand 
With Him at last ; and, from thy Father's hand, 

Tliy cross laid doivn. 

Receive a crown. 
My child I 



132 ASLEEP ON GUARD I 



ASLEEP ON GUARD! 



^^ /^\ SHAME!" we're sometimes faic to say 
\_J " On Peter sleeping, while His dear Lord 
lay 

A wake with anguish, in the garden's shade, 
Waiting His hour to be betrayed." 

We say, or think, if we had gone 
Thllher — instead of Peter, James, and John — 
And Christ had left us on tlie outpost dim, 
As sentinels, to watch with Him ; 

We would have sooner died, than sleep 

The little time we vigil had to keep ; 

Then wake, to feel His torturing cpicstion's power 

" Could ye not watch with me one hour '?" 

One hour in sad Gethsemane ! 

And such an hour as that to Him must be ! 

All night our tireless eyes had pierced the shade. 

W here He in grief's gi-eat passion prayed. 

What do we now, to make our word 
Seem no vain boast of love to Christ our Lord ? 
We cannot take the chidden sleeper's place, 
And shun, by proof. His deep disgrace 1 



ASLEEP ON GUARD I 133 

No more, the olive's shade beneath, 
The human Christ foretastes the cup of deatk, 
And leaves His servants in the outer gloom, 
To watcli till He again shall come 1 

Yet are there midnights dark and dread, 
When Jesus still by traitors is betrayed ; 
Our bosom-sin's the lurking foe at hand, 
And " Watch with me" is Christ's command. 

One little hour of sleepless care, 
And sin could wrest no victory from us there \ 
But, with the fame of our loved Lord to keep, 
Like those we scorn, we fall asleep. 

Oh 1 if our risen Lord must chide 
Our souls, for slumbering His death-cross beside, 
What face have we to boast our feeble sense 
Had shamed poor Peter's vigilance I 

On Peter, James, and John, no more 
The wrong reproach of hasty pride we pour \ 
Cut feel within the question's torturing power, 
" Could ye not watch with me one hour ?" 



134 T2IS UOl'K OF VhAYSK. 



THE HOUR OF PI^AVEK. 

'\ f "Y (uhI, is any hour j;o swoot-, 
_1.V_1_ From blush of morn to evening st;ir. 
As that which calls mo to Thy Icot — 
The hour of prayer 1 

Blci^t is that tranquil hour iif luorn, 
And hlost that hour of soUmuu ovo, 

When, on the \vini:;;s of faith up-borne, 
The world I leave 1 

For then a day-spring shiiu\s on mc, 
lirijihter than morn's ethereal {jlow ; 

And richer dews dci^eend from Theo 
TJian earth can know. 

Then is my strength by Thoe renewed ; 

Then do I feel my sins forgiven ; 
Tlien dost Thou cheer my solitude 

Witli jop of heaven. 

No words can tell what sweet relief 
There for my every want 1 fnid ; 

What strength for warfare, balm for ^iof, 
What peace of mind. 



77/ K WfLL UK hONK. HiS 



fAy njiirit ncA'jm in Ji<;ar<;n to »»tay ; 
Anr] (j%;fi tli<; ji<;riit/;nf.Ial t<;ar 
I» wijjK^l nwny. 

lyf/Tfl I till I n;;j/;}i that bliwiful »]iore, 
No pnvWcm: p/t fh;H,r f.hall he, 

Ai thii« rny inrncwt bouI t^; pour 
In [;r;i.yf;r U> Th';';. 



7'/// P^/AA /i/'J I) ONE. 

WE y.i-M not,, know xuit. All our v/ay 
U nigljt. VVitli 'Hk'^: ak/rj<; i« clay 
From out the t/;rr<;nt'» trouhl«;<l 'Jrift, 
Af><jv<; tli't nUtrm — r>ur ])rH,yiirn v/r; lift — 
'I'liy wilJ he thnm] 

TJio flcnh may fail, the hr-,art may faint., 
IJut who arc we, U) make cmnphaint>. 
Or dare tcj ple.a'l, in t,ime« like thene, 
Tlie wcakn<'.sH of our love of caw; ? 
'llty will h'; 'Jone ! 

We take with solemn thankfulnoe? 
Our burrlen up, nor ank it le-^a ; 
And count it joy that even wo 



136 TBT WILL BIE DONH. 



May suffer, serve, or wait for Thee, 
Whose will be done I 

Though dim, as yet, in tint and line, 
"VVe trace Thy picture's wise design, 
And thank Thee that our age supplies 
Its dark relief of sacrifice — 
TJiy will be done ! 

And if, in our unworthiness, 
Thy sacrificial wine Ave press ; 
If, from Thy ordeal's heated bars, 
Our feet are seamed with crimson soars. 
Thy will be done I 

If, for the age to come, this hour 
Of trial hath vicarious power; 
And, blest by Thee, our present pain 
Be Liberty's eternal gain, 
Thy will be done ! 

Strike ! Thou the INlastcr, we Tliy ke}'Si 
The anthem of the destinies ! 
The minor of Thy loftier strain, 
Our hearts shall breathe the old refrain- 
Thy will be done 1 



UYMN OF TRUST. 137 



UYMX OF TRUST. 



OLOVE Divine ! that stooped to share 
Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear , 
On Thee we cast each earth-born care ; 
We smile at pain while Thou art near I 



Though long the weary way we tread, 
And sorrows crown each lingering year, 

No path we shun, no darkness dread, 

Our hearts still whispering, Tliou art near ! 



When drooping pleasure turns to grief. 
And trembling faith is changed to fear, 

TIjc murmuring wind, the quivering leaf, 
Sliall softly tell us. Thou art near ! 

On Tlice we fling our burdening woe, 
O Love Divine 1 for ever dear ; 

Content to suffer, while we know, 
LiviiTg and dying. Thou art near I 



188 THE BURIAL OF M0SE8. 



THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 

BY Nebo's lonely mountain, 
On this side Jordan's wave, 
lu a vale m the land of ^loab, 

There lies a lonely grave ; 
And no man dug that sepulchre, 

And no man saw it e'er, 
For the *' Sons of God " upturned the sod; 
And Liid the dead man there. 



ITiat was the grandest funeral 

That ever passed on earth ; 
But no man heard the trampling, 

Or saw the train go forth. 
Noiselessly as the day-light 

Comes when the night is done, 
And the crimson streak on ocean's chock 

Grows into the m'eat sun — 



Noiselessly as the spring-time 
Her crown of verdure weaves 

And all the trees on all tlie hills 
Open their thousand leaves ; 



THE BURIAL OF MOSES. 139 



So, without sound of music, 

Or voice of tlicni that wept, 
Silently down i'roni the mountain's crown 

The great procession swept. 

Perchance the bald old cajole, 

On gray Beth-peor's height, 
Out of his rocky eyry 

Looked on the wondrous sight ; 
Perchance the lion stalking 

Still shuns that hallo wed spot : 
For beast and bird have seen and heard 

That which man knoweth not. 

But when the warrior dieth. 

His conu-ades in the war, 
With arms reversed, and muflled drnm, 

Follow the funeral car. 
They show the banners taken, 

They tell his battles won. 
And after him lead his mastcrless steed. 

While peals the minute-gun. 

Amid the noblest of the land 

Men lay the sage to rest, 
A.ud give the bard an honored plaoo, 

With costly marble drest — 



140 TEE EUniAL OF MOSES. 



In the great minster transept, • 

'\Micre lights like glories foil, 
And the sweet choir sings, and the organ rings 

Along the emblazoned wall. 

This -was the bravest warrior 

That ever buckled sword ; 
This, the most gifted poet 

That ever breathed a word \ 
And never earth's philosopher 

Traced with his golden pen, 
On the deathless page, truths half so sage 

As he wrote down lor men. 

And had he not high honor ?• 

The hill-side for his pall, 
To lie in state while angels wait, 

'With stars for tapers tall. 
And the dark rock-pines like tossing j)limiee 

Over his bier to wave, 
And God's own hand, m thai lonely land, 

To la}- him in the grave 1 

In that deep grave without a name, 

AVhence his uucolhned clay 
Sliall break again — most wondrous thought — 

Before the Judgment-day, 



^'yow.' 



141 



And stand, Avith glory wrapped around, 

On the hills he never trod, 
And speak of the strife that won our lifo 

With the Liearnate Son of God. 

O lonely tomb in INIoab's land ! 

O dark Beth-peor hill 1 
Speak to these curious hearts of ours, 

And teach them to be still. 
God hath His mysteries of grace, 

AVays that we cannot tell ; 
And hides them deep, like the secret sleep 

Of kim He loved so well. 



If- W 



^^ -r^ISE 1 for the day is passing, 
I \j And you lie dreaming on ; 
The others have buckled their armor, 

And forth to the fight are gone : 
A place in the ranks awaits you, 

Each man has some part to play ] 
The Past and Future are looking 
111 the face of the stern To-day " 



142 THJS NEED OF JEHUB. 



THE NEED OF JESUS. 

"I" NEED Thee, precious Jesus 1 
_!_ For I am full of sin ', 
My soul is dark and guilty, 

My heart is dead within ; 
I need the cleansing fountain, 

Where I can always flee — 
The blood of Christ most precious, 

The sinner's perfect plea. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus 1 

For I am very poor ; 
A stranger and a pilgrim, 

I have no earthly store ; 
I need the love of Jesus, 

To cheer me on my way : 
To guide my doubting footsteps, 

To be my strength and stay. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus I 

I need a friend like Thee — 
A friend to soothe and sympathize 

A friend to care for me; 
I need the heart of Jesus, 

To feel each anxious care, 
To tell my evei'y want. 

And all my sorrows share. 



THE NEED OF JESUS. 143 



1 need Thee, precious Jesus 1 

For T am very blind ; 
A weak and ibollsh wanderer, 

With a dark and evil niiud ; 
I need the light of Jesus, 

To tread the thorny road. 
To guide me safe to glory — 

Where I shall see my God. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus 1 

I need Thee day by day — 
To fill me with Tliy fulness, 

To lead me on my way ; 
I need Thy Holy Spirit, 

To teach me what I am, 
To show me more of Jesus, 

To point me to the Lamb. 

I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 

And hope to see Thee soon, 
Encircled with the rainbow. 

And seated on Thy throne ; 
There, with 'I'hy blood-bought cliildron, 

My joy shall ever be. 
To sing Thy praises, Jesus 1 

To gaze, my Lord, on Thee ! 



144 THE CHRISTIAN AND HIS ECHO. 



THE CIIIUSTIAN' AND JITS ECHO. 

TRUE faitli, proilacing love to God antl man, 
Say, Echo, is not this the Gospel plan ? 
The Gospel plan. 

Must I my faith and love to Jesus show, 
By doing good to all, both friend and foe ? 
Both friend and foe. 

But if a brother hates and treats me ill, 
Must I return him good, and love him still? 
Love him still. 

[f he my failings watches to reveal. 
Must I his faults as carefully conceal ? 
As carefully conceal. 

But if my name and character he blast, 
And cruel malice, too, a long time last; 
And, if I sorrow and affliction know, 
lie loves to add unto my cup of woe ; 
In this uncommon, tliis pccuhar case. 
Sweet Echo, say, must I still love and bless ? 
Still love and bless. 

Whatever usage ill I may receivo, 
Must I be patient still, and still forgive ? 

Be patient still, and still forgive. 



THE CUBISTIAJS AND HIS EOHO. 145 



Why, Echo how is this ? thou rt sure a dove 1 
Thy voice shall teach ine nothing else but love I 
Nothing else but love. 

Amen ! with all my heart, then be it so ; 
'Tis all delightful, just, and good, I know: 
And now to practise I'll directly go. 
Directly go. 

Things being so, whoever me reject, 
My gracious God me surely will protect. 
Surely will protect. 

Henceforth I'll roll on Ilim my every care, 
And then both friend and foe embrace in prayer. 
Embrace in prayer. 

But after all those duties I have done. 
Must I, in point of merit, them disown, 
And trust for heaven through Jesus' blood alone ? 
Through Jesus' blood alone. 

Echo, enough ! thy counsels to mine ear, 
Are sweeter than, to flowers, the dew-drop tear * 
Thy wise instructive lessons please me well : 
I'll go and practise them. Farewell, farewell I 
Practise them. Farewell, farewelll 



146 LESS AND MOJiK 



LESS AXD MORE. 

ri'^WO prayers, dear Lord, in one — 
_l_ Give me both less and more ; 
Less of the imjiatient world, and more of n»cc ; 

Less of myself, and all that heretofore 
Made me to slip where willing lect do run, 
And held me baek from where I fain would bo — 

Kept me, my Lord, from Thee ! 

All things which most I need 

Are Thine ; Thou wilt bestow 
Both strength and shield, and be my willing Guest ; 

Yet my weak heart takes up a broken reed, 
Thy rod and stafll' doth readily forego, 
And I, who might be rich, am poor, distressed, 

And seek but have not rest. 

ITow long, O Lord, how long ? 

So have I cried of late, 
As though I knew not what I well do know : 

Come Thou, Great INIaster Builder, and creal*> 
Anew that which is Thine ; undo my wrong — 
Breathe on this waste, and life and health bcstov? 

Come, Lonl, let it bo fo ! 



COMFORT BY THE WAY. 14*7 



Lot it be so, and then — 

What then ? My soul sliall wait, 

And ever pray— all prayers, dear Lord, in one 
Thy will o\!r mine in all this mortal state 

Hold re<i;al sway. To Thy coimnanda. Amen I 

lireak from my waiting lij>s till work is done, 
And crown and glory won. 



COMFORT BY THE WAT. 

I JOURNEY through a desert dn^ar and wild; 
Yet is my heart by sueh sweet thoughts 
beguiled, 
Of Ilim on whom I lean — my strength and stay — 
I can forget the sorrows of the way. 

Tlioughts of I lis love 1 the root of every grace 
^Vhieh finds in this poor heart a dwelling-place ; 
The stuishiiu! of my soul, than day more bright, 
And my calui pillow of repose by night. 

Thoughts of Ilis sojourn in this vale of tears! 
The tale of love luifoldcl in those years 



14S h^KTlW^rKCT. 



Of sinless sullorlnj;!: ami patleut j^race 
I love again, and yot again, to trace. 

Thoughts of His glory I on the oross I gazo, 
And tlieiv behold its sad, yet healing ra^-s ; 
R'Woon of liopel whioh, Urted up on high, 
llUiinos with heavenly light the tear-tlinnned eye. 

Thoughts oi" His eouving 1 For that joyful day 
in patient hope I watt'h, and wait, and pray; 
The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flcc, 
And what a snnrise will tJiat advent bo 

Thns while I journey on, my Lord to meet, 
My thoughts and meditations are so sweet 
Of Him on whom I lean — my strength, my stay — 
I can forget tlie sorrows of the wav. 



RETROSPECT. 

OLO^TNG One! O Bounteous One 1 
"What have I not received from TliCO, 
Throughout the seasons that have gone 
Into the past eternity I 

Lowly my name and mine estate ; 
Yet, Fat]>tr, many u child of Tkiuo, 



HETIiOHPEOT. 149 



Of jjurr,'* }if;art ari'J f;l<'-ari<;i' harif].^, 
Walks in an hiiniM«;r path than mine. 

Anrl, \()</k\n(f hfUikward through the year 
Along th«5 way my A;ct have prcswd, 

J w;e «w(;et \AiUMn everywhere — 

Sweet ])];u-j:H wlirjre my houI ha'i rfifft 

For, though Home human hopeH of mine 
Are <i(;a(l, and huriwl from my xiglit, 

Vet i'rom tlxjir graven immortal /lowers 
Have Hprung, and b!f;««onied int^> light. 

JJody, and heart, anrl W)u] have b<;en 
Fed by the rnoKt convenient food ; 

My nightH are pea^^eful all the while, 
And all my mortal days are go<j<L 

My Horn)ws have not b<',en ho light 

'J'liy eha.st/<',ning hand I could not tra«c : 

Nor hav<; my fjlcxsirjg.s been no great 
Timt they have hid my Father's face. 



150 THE VERDICT OF DEATH, 



HOW DOTH DEATH SPEAK OF OUR 
BELOVED? 

" Thb rain that falls upon the height, 
Too gently to be called delight. 
In the dark valley reappears 
As a wild cataract of tears : 
And love in life shall strive to see 
Sometimes what love in death would be." 

Angel in the Bouse. 

HOW doth Death speak of our beloved, 
When it hath laid them low ; 
When it has set its hallowing touch 
On speechless lip and brow ? 

It clothes their every gift and grace 
With radiance from the holiest place, 
AVith light as from an angel's face ; 

Recalling with resistless force 
And tracing to their hidden source, 
Deeds scarcely noticed in their course. 

This little loving fond device, 

That daily act of sacrifice, 

Of which too late we learn the prico I 

Opening our weeping eyes to trace 
Simple, unnoticed kindnesses, 
Forgotten notes of tenderness, 



TEE VERDIOT OF DEATH. 151 



Which evermore to us must bo 
Sacred as hymns In infancy, 
Learned listening at a mother's kneo. 

Thus doth Death speak of our beloved 

When it has laid them low : 
Then let Love antedate the work of Death, 

And do this now ! 



How doth Death speak of our beloved. 

When it has laid them low • 
When it has set Its hallowing touch 

On speechless Up and brow ? 

It sweeps their faults with heavy hand, 
As sweeps the sea the trampled sand, 
Till scarce the faintest print is scanned^ 

It shows how such a vexing deed 
Was but generous nature's weed. 
Or some choice virtue run to seed ; 

How that small fretting fretfulness 
Was but love's over-anxiousness, 
Which had not been, had love been loss. 

This failing, at which we repined, 
But the dim shade of day declined, 
Which should have made as doubly kind. 



152 THE VERDICT OF DEATH. 



Thus doth Death speak of our beloved, 

When it has laid them low ; 
Tlien let Love antedate Ithe work of Death, 

And do this now 1 



How doth Death speak of our beloved, 

When it has laid them low ; 
When it has set its hallowing touch 

On speechless lip and brow ? 

It takes each failing ou our part, 
And brands it in upon the heart, 
With caustic pov/er and cruel art. 

The small neglect that may have pained, 
A giant stature will have gained 
When it can never be explained : 

The little service which had proved 
How tenderly we watched and loved, 
And those mute lips to glad smiles moved 

The little gift from out our store, 

Which might have cheered some cheerless 

hour, 
When they with earth's poor needs were poor 
But never will be needed more 1 



A OnniSTMAS UYMN. 153 



It sliows our faults like fires at night ; 
It sweeps their failings out of sight, 
It clothes their good in heavenly light. 

O Christ our life ! fore-date the work of Death, 

And do this now ! 
Thou who art love, thus hallow our beloved I 

Not Death, but Thou 1 



I 



A CHRISTMAS HYMN. 

"N human form cntlironed, 
The sin of man atoned, 
Immanuel sits in highest seat of heaven , 
Our nature there He wears. 
And that blest union bears. 
In David's city on the low earth given. 

He draws us by a love, 

Not such as seraphs move 
In happy life through all the realms of space 

More subtle is the chord. 

The speaking of a word 
In language learned among our fleshly race. 

"My blood, once flowing free 
Upon the darkened tree. 



154 TUB WAT, TUB TRUTH, A^sW THE LIFE. 



Gives life to you In heaven's eternal room; 

The Brother and the Friend, 

Through ages Avithout end, 
Shall e'en outlast the Savuur from the doom." 



THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. 

THOU art the AYay ! 
All ways are thorny mazes without Thee ; 
Wliere hearts are pierced, and thoughts all aim- 
less stray. 
In Thee the heart stands firm, the life moves 
free : 
Thou art our TTay 1 

Thou art the Truth ! 
Questions the ages break against in vain 

Confront the spirit in its untried youth ; 
It starves while learning poison from the grain : 
Thou art the Truth ! 

Thou art the Truth ! 
IVutb for the mind, grand, glorious. Infinite, 

A heaven still boundless o'er its highest growth ; 
Bread fox the heart its daily need to meet. 

Thou art the Truth I 



TUE WAY, THE TRUTIT, AND THE LIFE. 155 



Tlioii art flic Mght! 
Earth beyond earth no faintest ray can f^ivo ; 
J leaven's shadcjUtss noontide blinds our mortal 
sight ; 
Jji Thoo we look on (Jod, and love and live: 
Tiiou art our Li^ht 1 

Thou art tlie Roek I 
Doubts none can solve heave wihl on every side, 
Wave nieetinj^ wave of tliought in ceaseless 
shock ; 
On Thee the soul rests calm aniidrit the tide: 
Thou art the Rock! 

Thou art the Life I 
All ways without Thee paths that end in death ; 

All life without Thee with death's harvest rife ; 
All truths dry bones, <lisjoin(!d and void of breath : 

'J'hou art our Life ! 

For TIkju art Love ! 
Our Way and End ! the way is rest with Tlicc ! 

O living Truth ! the truth is life in 'I'liee 1 
Lifij essential ' life is bliss with Theo I 
For Thou art Love 1 



166 THE TIME FOB PRAYER. 



THE TIME FOR PRAYER 

WHEN is the time for prayer ? 
With the first beams that light the 
morning sky, 
Ere for the toils of day thou dost prepare, 

Lift up thy thoughts on high ; 
Commend thy loved ones to Ilis watchful care : 
Morn is the time for prayer. 

And in the noontide hour, 

If worn by toil, or by sad cares oppressed, 
Tlien unto God thy spirit's sorrow pour, 

And He will give thee rest ; 
Thy voice shall reach Hun through the fields of 
air : 

Noon is the time for prayer. 

Wlien the bright sun hath set, 

"While eve's bright colors deck the skies ; 
"When with the loved at home again thou'st met, 

Then let thy prayers arise ; 
For those who in thy joys and sorrows share, 

Eve is the time for prayer. 

And when the stars come forth — • 

When to the trusting heart sweet hopes are 
given, 



LIQHT IN DARKNESS. 157 



And the deep stillness of the hour gives birth 

To pure bright dreams of heaven ; 
Kneel to thy God — ask strength, life's ills to bear 

Night is the time for prayer. 

When is the time for prayer ? 

In every hour, while life is spared to thee ; 
In crowds or solitude, in joy or care. 

Thy thoughts should heavenward flee. 
At home, at morn and eve, with loved ones there. 

Bend thou the knee in prayer 1 



LIGHT m DARKNESS. 

BREEZES of spring, all earth to life awak- 

Birds swiftly soaring through the sunny sky, 
The butterfly its lonely prison breaking, 

The seed up-springing which had seemed to die 

Types such as these a word of hope have spoken, 
Have shed a gleam of light around the tomb ; 

But weary hearts longed for a surer token, 
A clearer' ray, to dissipate its gloom. 

And this was granted ! See the Lord ascending, 
On crmison clouds of evening calmly bonie, 



158 COMMUmON WITH QOD 



TTitli hands out-strctcbed, and kioks of love still 
bonding 
On his bereaved ones, >yho no kmger mourn. 

" I am the resurrection ! " heai Him saying, 
*' I am the lite ; he who believes in me 

Shall never die ; the souls my call obeying, 
Soon where I am for evermore shall be." 

Sing halleluiah ! light from heaven appearing, 
The mystery of life and death is plain ; 

Now to the grave we can descend unfeariiig, 
In sure and certain hope to rise again I 



COMMUNION WITH GOD, 

LORD, I am come along with Theo ' 
Thy voice to hear, Thy face to see, 
And feel Thy presence near ; 
It is not fancy's lovely dream. 
Though wondrous e'en to foith it seem, 
That Tliou dost wait me hero, 

A moment from this outward life, 
Its service, self-denial, strife, 
I joj'fully retreat ; 
My soul, through intercourse with Thee, 



COMMUNION WITH ODD. 159 



Strengthened, refreshed, and cahn(;d shall bo, 
Its scenes again to meet. 

How can it be that one so mean, 
A sinner, selfish, dark, unclean. 

Thus in the Holiest stands? 
And in that light divinely pure 
Which may no stain of sin endure, 

Lifts up rejoicing hands I 

Jesus! the answer Thou hast given ! 
Thy death. Thy life, have opened heaven 

And all its joys to me ; 
Washed in Thy blood — oh! wondrous grace! 
I'm holy as the Holy Place 

In which I worship Thee. 

IIow sweet, how solemn thus to lie, 
And feel Jehovah's searching eye 

On me well pleased can rest I 
Because with His Beloved Son, 
TTiC Father s grace has made me onCj 

I must Vje always blest. 

Tlie secret pangs I could not tell 

To dearest friend — Thou knowest well , 

They claim Thy gracious heart '■. 
Thou d«)st remove with tender care, 



160 COMMUNION WITH OOD. 



Or sweetly give me strength to bear 
The sanctifying smart. 

Thy presence has a wondrous power ! 
The sharpest thorn becomes a flower, 

And breathes a sweet perfume ; 
Whate'er looked dark and sad before, 
With happy light shines silvered o'er, 

There's no such thing as gloom 1 

Thou know'st 1 have a cross to bear ; 
The needful stroke Thou dost not spare, 

To keep me near Thy side ; 
But when I see the chastening rod 
In Thy pierced hand, my Lord, my God ! 

I feel so satisfied ! 

Now, while I tell Thee how, within, 
I oft indulge my bosom sin. 

How faithless oft 1 prove 
No cold repulse, no frown I meet, 
But tender, soul -subduing, sweet 

Is the rebuke of Love. 



THE SUFFERER CHEERED. 161 



THE SUFFERER CHEERED 

<* Q AY! shall I take the thom away ?" 
k3 So spake my gracious Lord — 
" O'er which thy sighs are heaved by day, 
Thy nightly tears are poured ? 
Say ! shall I give thee rest and ease, 

Make earth's fair prospects rise, 
And bid thy bark o'er summer seas 
Float smoothly to the skies ? 

" Shall peace and plenty's cup swell high, 

Health leap through every vein. 
And all exempt thy moments fly 

From bitter inward pain ? 
Be naught to check the inspiring flow 

Of human friendship's tide ; 
And every want thy heart can know, 

Be quickly satisfied ? 

* Know, thine ease-loving heart might miss 

The comfort with the care I 
And that full tide of earthly bliss 

Leave little room for prayer I 
Few were thy visits to the throne, 

Unhastened there by pain ; 
Thou, o'er thy bosom-sins, alone, 

Wouldst small advantage gain ! 



162 TEE SUFFERER CHEERED. 



"Nor deem the highest, holiest joy 

A stranger still to woe ; 
Blest servants in my high employ, 

Most closely linked they go. 
My love illumes with tenderest rays 

The path of self-denial ; 
And burning bright the glory's blaze 

That crowns the fiery trial ! 



" In conscious weakness thou shalt hang 

On my almighty arm 1 
Soon as the thorn inflicts its pang, 

I'll pour my love's rich balm. 
Thou plainest in thy deepest woo 

Shalt feel me at thy side ; 
And, for my praise, to all shalt show, 

Thou art well satisfied. 



Then, wilt thou in thy Master's cup 

Consent awhile to share ? 
Know, when in love I drank it up, 

No lorath was left thee there 1 
Tliy Saviours love and power to bless 

T7'mt where thou canst not see I 
And in yon howling wilderness 

Step fearless forth with me I " 



ALL IN OniilST. 16a 



" Lord ! magnify Tliyself in mo I " 

With laltcM-in<r lips I said; 
For, stronj; to bear as faith may bo, 

AV^cak naturo (flails with dread. 
But He who throu<;h the shrinking flesh 

The spirit's will can read, 
Smiled on His work, and bade afresh 

All grace meet all my need. 



ALL IN CHRIST. 

IN Thee my heart, O Jesus I finds repose ; 
Thou bringest rest to all that weary aro. 
Until that Day-spuing from on high arose, 
1 wandered through a night without a star: 
INIy feet had gone astray 
Upon a lonely way : 
Each guide I followed failed me in my need ; 
Each staff 1 leaned on proved a broken reed. 

Then, when in mine extremity to Thee 
I turned, Tiiy pity did prevent my prayer; 
From that entangling maze it set me free. 

And quickly loosed my heavy load of caro 



164 ILL m CHRIST. 



Gave me the lofty scope 

Of a heaven-centred hope, 
And led me on with Thee, a gentle Guide, 
Thither, where pure immortal joys abide. 

ITiou art the great completion of my soul, 
The blest fulfilment of its deepest need ; 
When self-surrendered to Thy mild control, 
It enters into Hberty indeed ; 
Thy love, a genial law, 
Its every aim doth draw 
Within its holy range, and sweetly lure 
Its longings toward the beautiful and pure. 

Thy presence is the never-failing spring 

Of Ufe and comfort in each darker hour ; 
And, through thy grace benigoly ministering. 
Grief wields a secret, purifying power. 
'Tis sweet, O Lord 1 to know 
Thy kindredness with woe ; 
Sweeter to walk with Thee on ways apart 
Than with the world, where heart is shut to heart. 

For Thee eternity reserves hev hymn ; 

For Thee eartli has her prayers, and heaven her 
vows •, 
Thy saints adore Thee, and the seraphim, 

Under thy glory, vstoop their staiTy brows. 



»* HIMSELF HATH DONn: irr 166 



Oh ! may that light divine 
On me still clearer sliinc — 
A power, an inspiration from above, 
Lifting me higher to Thy perfect lovo ! 



''HIMSELF HATH DONE IT P 

" "ryiMSELF hath done it" all I Ohl how 

Jl L those words 

Should hush to silence every murmuring thought 
Himself hath done it. — lie who loves me best, 

He who my soul with His own blood hath bought 

" Himself hath done it !" Can it then be aught 
Than full of wisdom, full of tenderest love ? 

Not one unneeded sorrow will He send. 

To teach this wandering heart no more to rova 

"Himself hath done itJ" Yes, although severe 
May seem the stroke, and bitter be the cup, 

'Tis His own hand that holds it, and 1 know 
He'll give me grace to drink it meekly up. 

" Himself hath done it !" Oh 1 no arm but His 
Could e'er sustain beneath earth's dreary lot ; 

But while I know He's doing all things well, 
My hearl His loving-kindDess questions not 



166 '• HIMSELF HATH DONE ITT 



"Himself hath done it 1" He who's searched me 
through, 

Sees how I cleave to earth's ensnaring ties ; 
And so He breaks each reed on which mr soul 

Too much for happiness and joy relies. 

" Himself hath done it !" He would have me see 
A\niat broken cisterns human friends must prove ; 

That I may turn and quench my burning thirst 
At His own fount of ever-living love. 

" Himself hath done it 1" Then I fain would say 
" Thy will in all things evermore be done ;" 

E'en though that will remove whom best I love, 
While Jesus lives I cannot be alone. 

" Himself hath done it 1" Precious, precious words, 
" Himself," my Father, Saviour, Brother, Friend; 

Whose faithfulness no variation knows ; 
Arho, having loved me, loves me to the end. 

And when, in His eternal presence blest, 
I at His feet my crown immortal cast, 

m gladly own, with all His ransomed saints, 
" Hinisell' hath done it " — all, fi'om first to last! 



LJYINO WATERS. 167 



LIVING WATERS. 

IN some ^^ild Eastern legend the story has been 
told, 
Of a fair and wondrous fountain, that flowed In 

times of old ; 
Cold and cryetalline its waters, brightly glancing 

in the ray 
Of the summer moon at midnight, or the sim at 
height of day. 



And a good angel, resting there, once in a favored 

hour 
Infused into the limpid depths a strange mysterious 

power; 
A hidden principle of life, to rise and gush again, 
Wlieie but some drops were scattered on the dry 

and barren plain. 



So the traveller might journey, not now in fear 

and haste, 
Far llirough the mountain-desert, far o'or tlie 

sandy waste. 



168 LIVING WATERS. 



If but he sought this fountain first, and from its 

wondrous store 
The secret of unfailing springs along with him he 

bore. 



Wild and fanciful the legend — yet may not mean- 
ings high, 

Visions of better things to come, within itssh-adow 
lie? 

T}^e of a better fountain, to mortals now im- 
sealed, 

The full and free salvation in Christ our Lord re- 
vealed ? 

Beneath the Cross those waters rise, and he who 

finds them there 
All through the wilderness of life the living stream 

may bear ; 
And blessings follow in his steps, until where'er ho 

goes, 
The moral wastes begin to bud and blossom as the 

rose. 



Ho 1 every one that thirsteth, come to this fount- 
ain side ! 
Drink freely of its waters, drink, and be satisfied ! 



LIVmO WATERS. 169 



Yet linger not. but hasten on, and bear to all 

around 
Glad tidings of the love, and peace, and mercy 

thou hast found 1 

To Afric's pathless deserts, to Greenland's frozen 
shore — 

Where din of mighty cities sounds, or savage mon- 
sters roar — 

Wherever man may wander with his heritage of 
woe. 

To tell of brighter things above, go, brothers, 
gladly go 1 

Then, as of old in vision seen before the prophet's 

eyes, 
Broader and deeper on its com-se the stream of 

Hfe shall rise ; 
And everywhere, as on it flows, shall carry light 

and love, 
Peace and good-wiU to man on earth, glory to 

God above ! 



170 ABIDE WITH m. 



ABIDE WITH US. 

rpiHE tender light is fading where 
JL We pause and linger still, 
And, through the dim and saddened air. 
We feel the evening ehill. 

Long hast Thou journeyed with us. Lord, 

Ere we Thy face did know ; 
Oh ! still Thy fellowship alTord, 

While dark the shadows grow. 

For passed is many a beauteous field, 

Beside our morning road ; 
And many a fount to us is sealed 

That once so freshly (lowed. 

The splendor of the noontide lies 

On other paths than ours ; 
The dews that lave yon fragrant skies 

Will not revive our flowers. 

It Is not now as in the glow 

Of life's impassioned heat. 
When to the heart there seemed to flow 

All that of earth was sweet. 



ABIDE WITE US. I7l 



Something has faded — something died — 

Without us and within ; 
We more than ever need a guide ; 

Blinded and weak with sin. 

The weight is Iieavy that we bear, 
Our strength more feeble grows *, 

Weary with toil and [)ain and care, 
We long for sweet repose. 

Stay with us, gracious Saviour, stay, 
AVIiile friends and hopes depart I 

Fainting, on Thee we wish to lay 
The burden of our heart. 



Abide with us, dear Lord ! remaia 
Our Life, our Truth, our Way ! 

So shall our loss be turned to gain- 
Night dawn to endless day. 



172 THB BETTER LIFE. 



THE BETTER LIFE. 
'All the way by which the Lord thy God led thee." 

"T 1 r HEN we reach a quiet dwelling 

V V On the strong eternal hills, 
And our praise to Him is swelling, 

Who the vast creation fills : 
When the paths of. prayer and duty 

And affliction all are trod. 
And we wake and see the beauty 

Of our Saviour and our God \ 

With the light of resurrection, 

When our changed bodies glow, 
And we gain the full perfection 

Of the bliss begun below ; 
When the life that flesh obscureth 

In each radiant form shall shine, 
And the joy that aye endureth 

Flashes forth in beams divine 



WLIle wc wave the palms of glory 
Through the long eternal years, 

Shall we e'er forget the story 
Of oiu' mortal griefs and fears ? 



TEE BETTER LIFE. 173 

SLall we e'er forget the sadness? 

And the clouds that hung so dim, 
When our hearts are filled with gladness 

And our tears are dried by Him ? 

Shall the memory be banished 

Of His kindness and His care, 
Wlien the wants and woes are vanished, 

Which He loved to soothe and share— 
All the way by which He brought us, 

All the grievings which He bore. 
All the patient love He taught us, 

Shall we think of them no more ? 

Yes ! we surely shall remember 

How He quickened us from death : 
How He fanned the dying ember 

With His Spirit's glowing breath. 
We shall read the tender meaning 

Of the sorrows and alarms 
As we trod the desert, leaning 

On His everlasting arms. 

And His rest will be the dearer 

When we think of weary ways, 
And His light wiU seem the clearer 

As we muse on cloudy days. 



174 PRAY FOR WHOM TUOU LOVEST. 



Oh ! 'twill be a glorious morrow 
To a dark and stormy day ; 

Wc shall recollect our sorrow 
As the streams that pass away. 



PRAY FOR WHOM THOU LOVEST. 

Prat for whom thou lovest ; thou wilt never have auy com- 
fort of his friendship for whom thou dost not pray. 

YES, pray for whom thou lovest; thou mayst 
vainly, idly seek 
The fervid words of tenderness by feeble words to 

speak; 
Go kneel before thy Father's throne, and meekly, 

humbly there 
Ask blessing for the loved one in the silent hour 
of prayer. 

Tes, pray for whom thou lovest ; if uncounted 

wealth were thine — 
The treasures of the boundless deep, the riches of 

the mine — 
Thou could'st not to thy cherished friends a gift 

so dear impart. 
As the earnest benediction of a deeply loving 

heart. 



DB AWING WATER. 175 



Seek not the worldlin^r's friendship, it shall ilroop 

and wave ere long 
In the cold and heartless glitter of the {.leasiire- 

loving throng , 
Jliil seek the friend who when thy prayci for liim 

shall murmured be, 
Breathes forth in faithful sympathy a fervent 

prayer for thee. 

And should thy flowery path of life become a path 
of pain, 

The friendship formed in bonds like these thy 
spirit shall sustain ; 

Years may not chill, nor change invade, nor pov- 
erty impair, 

TTic love that grew and flourished at the holy time 
of prayer. 



DRAWING WATER. 

rllAD drank with lip unsated 
Where the founts of pleasure burst; 
1 had hewn out broken cisterns, 
And they mocked my spirit's thirst. 

And I said, Life is a desert, 
Hot and measureless and dry. 



170 DRAWING WATER. 



Aiid God will net give me water, 
Though I pray and faint and die ! 

Spoke there then a friend and brother, 
" Rise and roll the stone away ! 

There are founts of life upspringing 
In thy pathway every day." 

Then I said my heart was sinful — 
Very sinful was my speech ; 

All the wells of God's salvation 
Are too deep for me to reach. 

And he answered : " Rise and labor I 
Doubt and idleness is death ; 

Shape thou out a goodly vessel 

With the strong hands of thy faith !" 

So I wrought and shaped the vessel, 
Then knelt lowly, humbly there ; 

And I di-ew up living water, 
With the golden chain of prayer. 



A TRUE DREAM. 11*1 



A TRUE DREAM. 

Il^nEAMT we danced in careless glee, 
With hearts and footsteps light and free, 
That one so dearly loved and I, 
As in the childish days gone by 

For ever. 



I felt her arms around me fold, 
I heard her soft laugh as of old ; 
Her eyes with smiles were brimming o'er, 
Eyes we may meet on earth no more 
For ever. 

Then there came mingling with ray dreams 
A sense perplexed of loss and change — 
An echo dim of time and tears ; 
Until I said : " How long it seems 

Since thus we danced ! Is it not strange 
Do you not feel the weight of years ? 
Or dread life's evening shadows cold ? 
Or mourn to think we must grow old ?" 
Wondering, she paused a little while, 
Then answered, with a radiant smile : 

" No, never I " 



178 A TItUE DREAM. 

Wondering as if to her I told 

The customs of some foreign land 

Or spoke a tongue she knew of old, 
But could no longer understand. 

Till o'er her face that sunshine broke, 

And Avith that radiant smile she spoke 
That - Never." 

But not until the dream had lied 
I knew the sense of what she said ; 
Young with immortal truth and love, 
Child in the Fathers house above 
For ever. 

We echo back thy words again ; 
Thev smite us with no grief or pain ; 
We journey not towards the night. 
But to the breaking of the light 
Together. 

Our life is no poor cisterned store 
The lavish years are draining low ; 

But hvii'.g streams that, welling o'er, 
Fi'csh from the Living Fountain flaw 
For ever. 



"0 LORD! rilOU KNOWEHTy 179 



"0 LORD I TIIOU KNOW est:' 

ri'llIOU knowcst, Lonl, tlie weariness ami soi 
JL row 

Of tlie sad heart that comes to Tliee for rest • 
Cares of to-day, and burdens for to-morrow, 

Blessinr^s implored, and sins to be confesstid, 
I come before Thee at Thy gracious word, 
And lay them at Thy feet — Thou knowcst, Jjord. 

Thou knowcst all the past ; how long and blindly 
On the dark mountains the lost wanderer 
strayed ; 
How the good Shepherd followed, and how kindly 

He bore it home, upon His shoulders laid, 
And healed the Vjleeding wounds, and soothed the 

pain, 
And brought l)ack life, and hope, and strength 
again. 

Jliou knowcst all the j)resent : each temptation, 
Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear; 

All to myself assigncid of tiibulation, 

Or to beloved ones, than self more dear ! 

All pensive memories, as I journey on, 

Longings for vanished smiles, and voices gone ! 



180 ^'O Lonn: rnor rxowkst^ 

Thou knowost all iho futiuv : gloa\us of olaihuv^, 
By stonny cloiuls too quickly ovorcast ; 

Hours of sAvoot ioUowsliip, aud partino- sailuoiJS 
And the dark rlvor to be crossed at last: 

Oh ! Avhat could courulcuce and hope atlbrd 

QV tread that jiath. but this — thon humrst^ Lonl I 

Thou knowost. not aUnie as iJod, all-knowinjx ; 

As man, oin* mortal weakncvss thou hast, pmvcd ; 
On earth, with j^urest sympathies oVrllowiujx, 

O Saviour! Thou hast, wept, anil Thou hast 
loved ! 
Anil Love and SorroNv still to Thee may como, 
Aud find a hidlng-jilace, a rest, a houie. 

Therefore I come, Thy gentle call obeying, 
And lay my sins and sorrows at Thy t'eet, 

On everlasting strength ni}- weakness staying, 
Clothed in Thy robe of righteousness complete? : 

Then rising and reiVeshed, I leave Thy throne, 

Aud follow on to know as I am known I • 



laiNlHTRY. 181 



M I N 1 HT It Y, 

Ti/K f'oii of Mfin cam'; not io be rn'uiiHUjrt;'! ut.lo, bul lo 
jniulKtcr." 

SINCE Bcrvicc i« the hij^hest lot, 
Aiifl all arfi in one lio'ly bound, 
In all. the world the f^ace Ih not 

Which may not with this hli.s.s he crowncrl 

'riic, HufT'ercr on the he'l of pain 
Xef;d not he laid a.side from this ; 

But for eaeh kindness j^iv(;8 aj^ain 
" Tliis joy of doing kindnesses." 

1*he poorest may enrich this feast. 

Not one lives only t^j receive; 
liut renders through the liands of Chrifct 

Richer retuiTJS than man can give. 

The little child, in trustful glee, 

With love and f.dadneHH hriniining o'er 

Many a cup of minintry 

May for the weary vet.oran pour. 

The lonely ^lory of a throne 

May vet this lowly joy pi eservc ; 



182 M/yrsTRY. 



FiOve HKiv make that a stc piiln«:;-stoiie, 
And raise "I roign" into " 1 serve." 

This, by the ministries of prayer, 

The Kinehest Hie with bh.^ssing-s erowcls, 

Can eonseerate eaeh petty eare, 
JNIake angels* huitlei-s out ot' elomis. 

Nor serve we only when we gird 
C>ur hearts for speeial ministry ; 

That creatm-e best has ministered 
Which is what it was meant to be. 

Birds by being glad their IN laker bless 
By simply shining, sun anil star ; 

And we, whose law is love, serve less 
By what we do tbau what we are. 

Since service is the highest lot 
And angels know no higher bliss. 

Then with what good her cup is frauglit 
T\1jo was created but for this I 



IT 18 WELL. 183 



IT IS WELL. 

SO llicy Hald, who saw the wondcre 
Of Mcssiali's power and love •, 
So tlKiy filn^', who kcc His glory 
In tlio Father's house above ; 
Ever rciadinjj^, in eaf;h record 
Of the Ktran^^ely varied past, 
" All was well which God appointed, 
All has wrought for good at laai." 

And on earth we hear the echoes 

Of that chorus in the sky ; 
1'hrongh the day of toil or weeping, 

Faith can raise a glad reply. 
It is well, O saints departed ! 

Well with you, for ever blest. 
Well with us, who journey forward 

To your glory and your rest I 



Times are changing, days are flying, 
Years are quickly past and gone, 

While the wildly mingled murmur 
Of life's busy hum goes on ; 

Sounds of tumult, sounds of triumph, 
Marriage chimes and passing-bell ; 

Yet through all one key-note sounding, 

' Angels' watchword : " It is well." 



184 IT IS WELL. 



We may hear it, through the rushing 

Of the michiight tempest's wave ; 
We may hear it, thi'ough the weepiug 

Round the newly covered grave 
In the dreary house of mourning, 

In the darkened room of pain. 
If we listen meekly, rightly. 

We may catch that soothing straiu. 

For Thine arm thou hast not shortened 

Neither turned away thine ear, 
O Saviour ! ever ready 

The afilicted's prayer to hear ! 
Show us light, still surely resting 

Over all Thy darkest wa}'S ; 
Give us faith, still surely trusting 

Through the sad and evil days. 

And thus, while years are lleeting. 

Though our joys are with them gone, 
In Thy changeless love rejoicing 

We shall journey calmly on ; 
Till at last, all sorrow over. 

Each our tale of grace shall tell, 
[u the heavenly chorus joining : 

" Lord, thou hast done all things well I ' 



TEE CROSa 185 



1. 

THE CROSS. 
" >Iow there stood by the Cross of Jesus His mother," 

THE strongest light casts deepest shade, 
The dearest love makes dreanest loss, 
And she His birth so blessed had made 
Stood by Hi in dying on the cross. 

Yet since not grief but joy shall last, 
The day and not the night abide, 

And all time's shadows, earthward cast. 
Arc lights upon the " other side ;" 

Through what long bliss that shall not foil, 
That darkest hour shall brighten on ! 

Better than any angel's " Hall ! *' 
The memory of " Behold thy Son ! " 

Blessed in thy lowly heart to store 

Tlie homage paid at Bethlehem ; 
But far more blessed evermore, 

Thus to have shared the taunts and shame. 

Thus with thy pierced heart to have stood 
'Mid mocking crowds and owned Him tliinGj 

True through a world's ingratitude. 
And owned in death by lips Divine. 



186 THE GROWK. 



n 

THE CROWX. 

r pilOU slialt. be orowneil, O motber blest ! 
. JL Our hearts behold thee erowned e'en now 
The crown of motherhood, earth's best, 
O'ershadowing thy maiden brow. 

Thou slialt be crowned ! ]\Iore fragrant bays 

Then ever poet's brows entwine, 
For thine immortal hymn of praise, 

Fii-st Singer of the Church, are thine. 

Tliou shalt be crowned ! All earth and heaven 

Thy coronation pomp shall see ; 
Tlie Hand by which thy crown is given 

Shall be no stranger's hand to thee. 

Tlion shalt be crowmed ! but not a (Uiceu ; 

A better triumph ends thy strite : 
ITeaven's bridal raiment, w^hite and clean, 

The victor's crown of fadeless life. 

Thou shalt be crowned . but not alone — 
No lonely pomp shall weigh thee down ; 

Crowned with the myriads round His throne, 
And ca-sting at His feet thy crown. 



PRAYER OUT OF TEE DEPTHS. 187 



PRAYER OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 

ALL in weakness, all in sorrow, 
O my God ! I come once more, 
Lifting up the sad petition 

Thou hast often heard before, 
In the former days of darkness, 
In the time of need of yore. 

For a present help in trouble 
Thou hast never ceased to be. 

Since at first a weeping sinner 
Fell before Thee trustingly ; 

And Thy voice is ever sounding : 
" O ye weary ! come to Me." 

Lord, Thou knowest all the weakness 
Of the creatures Thou hast made, 

For with mort al imperfection 

Thou didst once Thy glory shride ; 

Tliou hast loved and Thou hast sorrowed. 
In the veil of flesh arrayed. 

Thus I fear not to approach Thee 
With my sorrow and my care ; 

Hear my mourning supplication, 
Cast not out my humble prayer! 



188 PJtAYER OCT OF THE DEPTHS. 



Lay not on a i;Toater Inmlen 
Tlian Thy I'oeblo child can boiirl 

Earth has lost its best attractions, 
All the brightest stai*s are gone — 

All is cloiulcd now and cheerless. 
Where so long a glory shone : 

"NMiere I walkeil with loved companions, 
I must wander now alone. 

All is dark on the horizon, 
Clouds returning after rain ; 

Faith is languid, Hope is weary. 
And the (Questions rise again : 

Doth the promise fail for ever ? 
Hast thou made all men in vaiuV 

O my (xod ! rebuke the tempter, 

Let not unbelief prevail ! 
Pray for me, Thy feeble servant, 

That my weak fi\ith may not fail, 
Nor my Hope let go her anchor 

"When the waves and storms a^^ad i 

All these passing changing shadows, 
All these brief, bright joys below — 

Let me grasp them not so closely, 
Nor desire nor prize them so 1 



FRAY Kit OUT OF THE DEPTUH. 189 



Nor cndurr; tliis hitter an;^ul.sh 

When Tlioii bid'ct riic let thorn go 1 

Ilcdeemer ! shall one perish 
Who lias looked Xa) Tliee for aid V 

Let ine see Thee, let me hear Thee, 
Throu;;h the j^looriiy rnidnif^ht shade ; 

Let me hear Thy voice of comfort : 
"It is 1, he not afraid!" 

For when feelin;^ Tlatu art near uie, 

All my loneline.ss is o'er, 
And the ttimpter's dark suj^gestionfl 

Can Of ipre.s« my S'jul no more 5 

1 shall dread the path no longer 

Where Thyself hast gone before. 

And the lights of earth all fading, 

1 can ga/e on tearlessly, 
VV^fien the glory that excelleth, 

Wlien the light of hfe I see. 
Whom In^sides, in earth or heaven, 

Should my heart desire, but Thoe ? 



190 SALOME. 



SAL ME, 



SHE knew not what for them sho sought 
At His right hand and left to sit ! 
How great the glory, passing thought ; 
How rough the path that led to it. 

They knew not what of Him they asked * 
But He their deeper sense distilled. 

Gently the selfish wish unmasked, 
But all the prayer of love fulfilled. 

Pride sought to lift herself on high, 
And heard but of the bitter cup ; 

Love would but to her Lord be nigh, 
And won her meavsure full — heaped up 

With vision of His glory blessed ; 

Stood on the mountain by His side ; 
liCaned, at the Supper, on His breast; 

Stood close beneath Him when He died* 

One brother shared His cup of -woo — 
The second of His martyr-band ; 

One, by His glory smitten low, 

Hose at the touch of His right hand. 



MEMORIES. 101 

Thus, when by eai'tli's cross lights perplexed, 
We crave the thing that should not bo,, 

God, reading right our erring text, 

Gives what we would ask, could we see. 



MEMORIES 

WHEN fall the evening shadows, long and 
deep, across the hill ; 
When all the air is fragrance, and all the breezes 
still ; 

When the summer sun seems pausing above the 

mountain's brow. 
As if he left reluctantly a scene so lovely now ; 

Then 1 hnger on the pathway, and I fondly gazo, 

and long, 
As if reading some old story those deep purple 

clouds among ; 

Tlien Memory approaches, holding up her magic 

glass. 
Pointing to familiar figures, which across the stii> 

face pass. 



1 92 MEMORIES. 



And often do I question, as I view that pliantom 

train, 
Whether most with joj or sadness I behold them 

thus again. 

They are there, those scenes of beauty, where 
life's brightest hours have fled, 

And I haste, with dear companions, the old paths 
again to tread ; 

But, suddenly dissolving, all the loveliness is flown, 
And I find a thorny wilderness, where I must 
walk alone. 

Thou art there, so loved and honored, as in each 

former hour, 
\Mien we read thine eye's deep meanmg, when 

we heard thy words of power ; 

When our souls, as willing captives, have sought 

to follow thine, 
Tracing the eternal footsteps of Might and Love 

Divine. 

But o'er that cherished image falls a veil of clouds 

and gloom. 
And beside a bier I tremble, or I weep above a 

tomb. 



MEMORIES. 1 93 



And ever will the question come, O Memory 1 

again, 
AVLcthcr in thy magic mirror there is most of 

bhss or pain ? 

Would I not wish the brightness were for ever hid 
from view, 

If but those hours of darkness could be all for- 
gotten too ? 

Then, weary and desponding, my spirit seeks to 

rise 
Away from earthly conflicts, from mortal smiles 

or sighs. 

I do not think the blessed ones with Jesus have 

forgot 
llie changing joys and sorrows which have marked 

their earthly lot ; 

15 ut now, on Memory's record their eyes can 

calmly dwell ; 
Jliey can see, what hero they trusted— God hath 

done all things well ; 

And vain regrets and longings are as old things 
passed away; 

No shadows dim the sunslune of that bright eter- 
nal day ! 



194 THE WIDOW OF NAIN. 



THE WIDOW OF NAiy. 

rriPIY miracles are no state splendors 
JL Whose pomps Thy daily works excel ^ 
The rock which breaks the stream, but rendci-s 
Its constant current audible. 

The power which startles us in thunders 

Works ever silently in light ; 
And mightier than these special wonders, 

The wonders daily in our sight. 

Rents in the veils Thy works that fold, 
They let the inner light shine through ; 

The rent is new, the light is old. 
Eternal, never ever new. 

And, therefore, when Thy touch arrests 
The bearers of that bier at Nain, 

Warm on unnumbered hearts it rests, 
Though yet their dead live not again. 

And Thy compassionate " Weep not ! " 
On this our tearful earth once heard, 

For every age with comfort fraught, 
Tells how Thy heart is ever stirred. 



THE WIDOW OF NAIN. 195 



Nature repeats the tale each year, 

She feels Thy touch through countless springs, 
And, rising from her wintery bier, 

Throws off her grave-clothes, lives and sings. 

And when Thy touch through earth shall thrill 
This bier whereon our race is laid. 

And, for the first time standing still. 
The long procession of the dead 

At Thy " Arise ! " shall wake from clay. 
Young, deathless, freed from every stain ; 

When Thy " Weep not ! " shall wipe away 
Tears that shall never come again ; 

When the strong chains of death are burst, 
And lips long dumb begin to speak. 

What name will each then utter first ? 
What music shall that silence break ? 



196 PATUfFAYS OF THE HOLT LAm>. 



PATHWAYS OF TEE HOLY LAND. 

ri"^HE pathways of Thy land are little changed 
_1_ Since Thou wert there ; 

The busy world through other ways has ranged, 
And left these bare. 

The rocky path still climbs the glowing steep 

Of Ohvet, 
Though rains of two millenniums wear it deep, 

Men tread it yet. 

Still to the gardens o'er the brook it leads. 

Quiet and low ; 
Before his sheep the shepherd on it treads. 

His voice they know. 

Tlie wild fig throws broad shadows o'er it still, 

As once o'er Thee ; 
Peasants go home at evening up that hill 

To Bethany. 

And; as when gazing Thou didst weep o'er them, 

From height to height 
The white roofs of discrowned Jerusalem 

Bui'st on our sight. 



PATHWAYS OF THE HOLT LAJWS. 197 



These ways were strewed with garments once, and 
palm, 
Which we tread thus ; 
Here, through Thy triumph, on Thou passedfift, 
calm, 
On to Thy cross. 

The waves have washed fresh sands upon the shore 

Of Galilee; 
But, chiselled in the hill-sides, evermore 

Thy paths we see. 

Man has not changed them in that slumbering 
land. 

Nor time effaced ; 
Where Thy feet trod to bless, we still may stand 

All can be traced. 



Yet we have traces of Thy footsteps far 

Truer than these ; 
Where'er the poor, and tried, and suffering are, 

Thy steps faith sees. 



Nor with fond sad regrets Thy steps we trace; 
Thou art not dead I 



198 FOR THE NEW TEAR. 



Our path is onward, till we sec Thy face, 
And hear Thy tread. 

And now, wherever meets Thy lowliest band 

In praise and prayer, 
TJiere is Thy presence, there Thy Holy Land, 

Thou, Thou, art there I 



FOR THE NEW TEAR. 

ANOTHER year I another year 
Has borne its record to the skies 
Another year ! another year, 

Untried, unproved, before us lies ; 
We hail with smiles its dawning ray — 
How shall we meet its final day ? 



Another year, another year I 

Its squandered hours will ne'er return 
Oh 1 many a heart must quail with fear 

O'er memory's blotted page to turn. 
No record from that leaf will fade, 
Not one erasure may be made. 



FOB THE NEW YEAR. 199 



A notlicr year, another year ! 

How many a gi-ief has marked its flight I 
Some whom we love, no more are here — 

Translated to the realms of light. 
Ah ! none can bless the coming year 
Like those no more to greet us here. 

Another year, another year ! 

Oh I many a blessing, too, was given, 
( )ur lives to deck, our hearts to cheer, 

And antedate the joys of heaven ; 
But they, too, slumber in the past, 
Where joys and griefs must sink at last. 

Another year, another year ! 

Gaze we no longer on the past. 
Nor let us shrink, with faithless fear, 

From the dark shade the future casts. 
The past, the future — what are they 
To those whose lives may end to-day ? • 

Another year, another year I 
Perchance the last of life below. 

Wlio, ere its close. Death's call may heat 
None but the Lord of life can know 

Oh ! to be found, whene'er that day 

May come, piepared to pass away. 



200 THE PERPETUITY OF JOY IN HEATEN. 



Another year, another year 1 

Help us earth's thorny path to tread *, 
So may each moment bring us near 

To Thee, ere yet our lives are fled. 
Saviour ! we yield ourselves to Thee, 
For time and for eternity. 



THE PERPETUITY OF JOY FN HE A VEN 

HERE brief is the sighing, 
And brief is the crying, 
For brief is the life ! 
The life there is endless, 
The joy there is endless. 
And ended the strife. 

What joys are in heaven ? 
To whom are they given ? 

Ah ! what ? and to whom ? 
The stars to the earth-born, 
" Best robes " to the sin-worn. 
The croAvn for the doom I 



O country the fairest ! 
Our country the dearest, 



TEE PERPETUITY OF JOY IN HEAVEN. 201 

We press toward thee ! 
Slon the golden 1 
Our eyes now are holden, 

Thy light till we see : 

Thy crystalline ocean, 
Unvexed by commotion, 

Thy fountain of life ; 
Thy deep peace unspoken. 
Pure, sinless, unbroken— 

Thy peace beyond strife : 

Thy meek saints all glorious, 
Thy martyrs victorious, 

AVho suffer no more ; 
Thy halls full of singing, 
Thy hjonns ever ringing 

Along Thy safe shore. 

Like the lily for whiteness. 
Like the jewel for brightness, 

Thy vestments, O Bride ! 
The Lamb ever with thee, 
The Bridegroom is with thoe— 

With thee to abide ! 

We know not, we know not, 
Ail human words show not, 



202 TUBOXJGn THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 



Tlie joys we may reach ', 
The mansions preparing, 
The joys for our sharing, 

The welcome for each- 

O Sion the golden ! 
My eyes still are holdcn, 

Thy light till I sec ; 
And deep in thy glory, 
Uuveiled then before mo, 

My King, look on thee 



VHROJiaH THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 

ry^HE sun had sunk in tlie West 
JL For a little while, 

A nd the clouds which gathered to see him die * 
Had caught his dying smile. 

We sat in the door of our Tent, 

In the cool of the day. 
Toward the quiet meadow 

AVliere misty shadows lay. 

The great and terrible Laud 
Of wilderness and drouijrht. 



TlTROUOn THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 203 



Lay in tlie shadows behind us, 
For the Lord had brought us out. 

The great and terrible River, 
Though shrouded still from view, 

Lay in the shadows before us, 

But the Lord would bear us through. 

In the stillness and the starlight, 

In sight of the Blessed Land, 
V^'^e thought of the bygone Desert-Ufo, 

And the burning, blinding sand. 

Many a dreary sunset. 

Many a dreary dawn. 
We had watched upon those desert hilb 

As we pressed slowly on. 

Yet sweet had been the silent dews 
Which from God's presence fell, 

And the still houi-s of resting 
By Palm-tree and by Well, 

Till we pitched our Tent at last 

The Desert done, 
Where we saw t)ie hills of the Hoi}' Land 

Gleam in our sinkinir sun. 



204 TEBOUGB THE FLOOD OK FOOT. 



And we sat In the door of our Tent^ 

In the cool of the day, 
Toward the quiet meadow 

"Whore misty shadows lay : 

We were talking about the King, 

And our elder Brother, 
As we were used often to speak 

One to another. 

The Lord standing quietly by, 

In the shadows dim, 
Smiling perhaps, in the dark, to beai 

Our sweet, sweet talk of Him. 

" I think in a little while," 

I said at length, 
" We shall see His face in the city 

Of everlasting strength ; 

" And sit down under the shadow 
Of His smile. 
With great delight and thanksgiving, 
To rest awhile." 

" But the liiver — the awful River I 
In tJie dying light," 



THROUGH THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 205 



And even as he spoke, the muraiur 
Of a River rose on the night 1 

And One came up through the meadow, 

Where the mists lay dim, 
Till He stood by my friend in the star-light, 

And spake to him : 

" I have come to call thee Home," 

Said our veiled Guest ; 
" The terrible journey of life is done) 

I will take thee into Rest. 

" Arise 1 thou shalt come to the Palace, 
To rest thee for ever ;" 
And He pointed across the dark meadow^ 
And down to the River. 

And my friend rose up in the shadows, 
And turned to me — 
" Be of good cheer," I said faintly, 
" For He calleth thee." 

For I knew by His loving voice, 

His kingly word, 
The veiled Guest in the star-light dim 

Was Clirist, the Lord 1 



206 THROUGH THE FLOOD ON FOOT. 



So we three went slowly down 

To the lliver-side, 
Till we stood in the heavy shadows 

By the black, wild tide. 

I covdd hear that the Lord was speaking 

Deep words of grace, 
I could see their blessed reflection 

On my friend's pale face. 

The strong and desolate tide 

Was hurrying wildly past, 
As he turned to take my hand once more, 

And say Farewell, at last. 

"Farewell — I cannot fear, 

Oh 1 seest tliou His grace ?'* 

And even as he spoke, he turned 

Again to the Master's Face. 

So they two went closer down 

To the River-side, 
And stood in the heavy shadows 

By the black, wild tide. 

But when the feet of the Lord 
Were come to the waters dim, 

Tliey rose to stand, on either hand^ 
And left a path for HIni ; 



I 



TEROUOn TEE FLOOD Oil FOOT. 207 



So they two passed over swiftly 

ToAvard the Goal, 
But the wistful, longing gaze 

Of the passing soul 

Grew only more rapt and joyful 
As he clasped the Master's hand , 

I think, or ever he was aware 

They were come to the Holy Land. 

Now I sit alone in the door of my Tcul 

In the cool of the day, 
Toward the quiet meadow 

WTiere misty shadows play. 

llie great and terrible Land 

Of wilderness and drought, 
Lies in the shadows behind me, 

For the Lord hath brought me out j 

The great and terrible River 

I stood that night to view. 
Lies in the shadows before me. 

But the Lord will bear me tJirough. 



208 THE LONG GOODNIGHT. 



TEE LONG GOOn-mGHT. 

I JOURNEY forth rejoicing, 
From this dark vale of tears, 
To heavenly joy and freedom, 

From earthly bonds and fears : 
Where Christ our Lord shall gather 

All His redeemed again, 
His kingdom to inherit. 

Good-night, till then ! 



Go to thy quiet resting, 

Poor tenement of clay I 
From aU thy pain and weakness 

I gladly haste away ; 
But still in faith confiding 

To find thee yet again, 
All glorious and immortal. 

Good-night, till then ! 



Why thus so sadly weeping. 
Beloved ones of my heart ? 

The Lord is good and gracious, 
Tliougb now He bidt! us part. 



TB£! LONG GOODNIGHT. 209 



Oft have we met in gladness, 
And we shall meet again, 
All sorrow left behind us. 

Good-night, till then 

I go to see Ilis glory, 

Whom we have loved below : 
I go, the blessed angels. 

The holy samts to know. 
Our lovely ones departed, 

I go to find again, 
And wait for you to join us. 

Good-night, till then ! 

I hear the Saviour calling — 
The joyful hour has come : 

The angel-guards are ready 
To guide me to our home. 

Where Christ our Lord shall gather 
All His redeemed again. 

His kingdom to inherit. 

Good-night, till then ! 



210 FOOTSTEPS ON' THE OTHER SIDE. 






FOOTSTEPS ON THE OTHER SIDE 

OjITTING in my humble doorway, 
k_7 Gazing out into the night, 
fjistening to the stormy tumult 

With a kind of sad delight — 
AVait I for the loved who comes not, 

One whose step I long to hear ; 
One who, though he lingers from me, 

Still is dearest of the dear. 
Soft ! he comes — now heart, be quick — 

Leaping in triumpliant pride ! 
Oh ! it is a stranger footstep, 

Gone by on the other side. 

All the night seems filled with weeping 

Winds are waiHng mournfully; 
And the rain-tears together 

Journey to the restless sea. 
I can fancy, sea, your murmur, 

As they with your waters flow. 
Like the griefs of single beings, 

Maldng up a nation's woe 1 

Branches, bid your guests be silent 
Hush a moment, fretful rain ; 

Breeze, stop sighing — let me listen, 
God grant not again in vain 1 



Q ONUS HOME. 211 



In my cheek the blood Is rosy, 
Like tlie blushes of a bride. 

Joy ! Alas ! a stranger footstep 
Goes on by the other side. 

Ah ! how many wait for ever 

For the steps that do not come ! 
Wait until the pitying angels 

Bear them to a peaceful home ! 
Many in the still of midnight 

In the streets have lain and died, 
While the sound of human footsteps 

Went by on the other side. 



GONE HOME. 

a ONE home! Gone home! She lingers 
here no longer 
A restless pilgrim, walking painfilly, 
With homesick longing, daily growing stronger, 
And yearning visions of the joys to be. 

Gone home ! Gone home I Her earnest, active 
spirit, 

Her very playfulness, her heart of love ! 
Tlift heavenly mansion now she doth inherit, 

Which Christ made ready ere she went above. 



212 FUNERAL HYMN. 



Gone Lome ! Gone home I The door through 
^vhich she vanished 

Closed with a jar, and left us here alone. 
^Ve stand without, in tears, forlorn and banished, 

Longing to follow where one loved has gone. 

Gone home Gone home I Oh ! shall we ever 
reach her, 

Sec her again, and know her for our own ? 
\Yill she conduct us to the heavenly Teacher, 

And bow beside us, low before His throne ? 

Gone home ! Gone home ! O human-hearted 
Saviour ! 

Give us a balm to soothe our heavy woe ; 
And if Thou wilt, in tender, pitying favor, 

Hasten the time when we may rise and go 1 



FUNERAL HYMN. 



COIME forth ! come on, with solemn song J 
The road is short, the rest is long. 
The Lord brought here, Hs calls away 

Make no delay, 
This home was for a passing day. 



FUNERAL HYMN. 



213 



Hero in an inn a stranger dwelt, 
Here joy and grief by turns he felt ; 
Poor dwelling, now we close tliy doori 

The task is o'er, 
The sojourner returns no more. 

Now of a lasting home possessed, 
He goes to seek a deeper rest. 
Good-night 1 the day was sultry here 

In toil and fear ; 
Good-night 1 the night is cool and clear 

Chime on, ye bells 1 again begin, 
i\nd ring the Sabbath morning in. 
The laborer's week-day work is done, 

The rest begun, 
Which Christ hath for His people won. 

Now open to us gates of peace 1 
Here let the pilgrim's journey cease ; 
^e quiet slumberers, make room 

In your still home 
For the new stranger who has come ! 



How many graves around us lie ! 
How man;? homes are in the sky I 



214 WE ARE THE LOBD'S. 



Yes, for each saint dotli Christ prepare 

A place with care, 
'riiy home is waiting, brother, thero. 

Jesus, Thou reignest, Lord, alono ; 
Thou wilt return and claim Thino own. 
Come quickly. Lord ! return again I 

Amen 1 Amen I 
Thine seal us over, now and (lion! 



WE A KB TUE LORD'S. 

WE are the liOrd's. His, earthly life and 
spirit! 
We are the Lord'f;, who once for all men died I 
"VVe are the Lord',*", and shall all things inherit 1 
We arc the Lord's, who wins us all beside I 

We are the Lord's I So in most holy living, 
Glad let us, body, soul, be I lis alone ; 

And heart and mouth, and act join, witness giving 
Tliat it is surely true : we are His own 1 

Wo arc the fiord's ! So in the dark vale gleamnig, 
One star dispels our fear, and keeping ward, 



EUTUANASY 215 



Dotli light our way with sweet unchangcful beam- 
ing: 
It is the [)rcL'ioiis Word. We're thine, O Lord I 

We are the fiOrd's ! So will He on the morrow 
Watch our last pang, when other help rewards 

No pain, and Death brings not a touch of sorrow 
This Word's for ever true : wo are the Lord's. 



EUTHANAST. 

WE need no change of sphere 
To view the heavenly sights, or hear 
Tiie songs which angels sing. The hand 

Which gently pressed the sightless orbs crt' 

while. 
Giving them light, a world of beauty, and the 
friendly smile, 
Can cause our eyes to see the better land. 

We need no wings 

To soar aloft to realms of higher things 
But only feet which walk the paths of peace > 

Guided by Him whose voice 

(xreets every ear, makes every heart rejoice, 
Saying, Arise, and walk where sorrows ceaso. 



216 EUTEAN-ASY, 



Visiting spiriLs are near ; 

They arc not -vvlioll y silent, but we can not hoar 
Nor nnilerstand their speech. 

Our Saviour eauoht His Father's Avord, 

And men of oUl, dreaming and walking, heard 
The breathings of a world we can not reach. 



They mounted to the skies, 

And read deep mysteries- 
While yet on earth, they placed a ladder thcro 

Like Jacob's, that each round should lead, 

By prayer outspoken, in a word or deed, 
The soul to heights of clearer, purer air. 

Tliey saw no messenger of gloom 

In him whom we call Death, nor met their doom 
As prisoner his sentence ; but naturally, as bud 
unfolds to llower. 

As child to man, so man to angel — 

They recognizing death the glad evangel, 
Leading to higher scenes of life and power. 



THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 217 



THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 

FAINT and worn and aged 
One stands knocking at a gate 
Though no light shines in the casement, 

Knocking though so late. 
It has struck eleven 
In the courts of heaven, 
Yet he still doth knock and wait. 



While no answer cometh 
From the heavenly hiU, 

Blessed angels wonder 
At his earnest will. 

Hope and fear but quicken 

VYhile the shadows thicken : 
He is knocking, knocking still 

Grim the gate unopened 
Stands with bar and lock : 

Yet within the unseen Porter 
Hearkens to the knock. 

Doing and undoing, 

Faint and yet pursuing. 
This man's feet are on the Rook. 



218 TEE ELEVENTH HOUIL 



With a cry unceasing, 

Knocketh, prayeth he : 
" Lord, have mercy on me 

When I cry to Thee." 
With a knock unceasing, 
And a cry increasing: 

" O my Lord ! remember mo." 

Still the Porter standeth, 

Love-constrained He standeth near 
A\'liile the cry increaseth 

Of that love and fear : 
" Jesus, look upon me — 
Christ, hast Thou foregone mo ? — 

If I must, I perish here." 

Faint the knocking ceases, 

Faint the cry and call : 
Is he lost mdeed for ever. 

Shut without the wall ? 
Mighty Arms surround him, 
Anns that sought and found him, 

Held, withheld, and bore through all. 



C) celestial mansion ! 
Open wide the door 



''BRimHN^G OUR SHEAVES WTTH US." 219 



Crown and robes of whiteness, 

Stone Inscribed before, 
Flocking angels bear them ; 
Stretch thy hand and wear thcni ; 

Sit thou down for evermore. 



''BRINGiya OUR SHEAVES WITH ITS:' 

THE time for toil is past, and night has come, 
The last and saddest of the harvest eves ; 
Worn out with labor long and wearisome, 
Drooping and faint, the reapers hasten home, 
Each laden with his sheaves. 

Last of the laborers, Thy feet I gain, 

TiOrd of the harvest ! and my spirit grieves 
That I am burdened, not so much with grain 
As with a heaviness of heart and brain. 
Master, behold my sheaves ! 

Few, light, and worthless — yet their trifling weiglii 

Through all my frame a weary aching leaves ; 
For long I struggled with my hapless fate, 
And staid and toiled till it was dark and late — 
Yet these are all mv sheaves 1 



220 ''BRI2^GIN0 OUB SHEAVES WITH VSJ* 



Full well I know I Lave more tares than wheat — 
Brambles and flowers, dry stalks, and withered 
leaves ; 

"W^herefore I blush and weep, as at Thy feet 

I kneel down reverently, and repeat, 
" Master, behold my sheaves I" 

1 know these blossoms, clustering heavily 

With evening dew upon their folded leaves, 
Can claim no value nor utility — 
Therefore shall fragrancy and beauty be 
The glory of my sheaves. 

So do I gather strength and hope anew ; 

For well I know thy patient love perceives 
Not what I did, but what I strove to do — 
And though the full, ripe ears be sadly few 

Thou wilt accept my sheaves. 



THE MEETING PLACE. 221 



THE MEETING PLACE. 
I. 

THE daylight has faded over the sea, 
The shadows are gathering heavily, 
The waters are moaning drearily, 
And there is no haven in sight for me — 

Only a black, wild, angry haven ; 
Only a rolling, moaning sea ; 

And a small, weak bark by the tempest driven 
Hither and thither helplessly. 
For I am alone on this moaning sea ; 
Alone, alone, on the wide, wild sea ! 
Only God stands by in the dark by me. 
But his silence is worse to bear than the moan 

Of the dreary waters that will not stay; 
And I am alone — ay, worse than alone. 

For God stands by, and has nothing to say ! 
And Death is creeping over to me — 
Creeping across the drear black sea — 
Creeping into the boat with me ! 
And he will sink the small, weak bark, 
And I shall float out in the dreary dark 
Dead, dead, on the wide, wild sea ; 
A dead face up to the cruel sky — 



222 TEE MEETING PLAGE. 



Dead eyes that liad wearied sore for the light — 

A dead hand floating helplessly, 
Tired with hard rowing through all the night ; \\ 

This is what thou shalt see, O God ! I 

From thy warm, bright home beyond the cloud ; 

Thou denied'st me light, though it overflowed, 
And there was not room for it all in heaven — 

Thou denied'st one ray unto me, O God ! 
By the windy storm and tempest driven ; 

Thou shalt look on my lost face, God, and see 

What it was to die in the dark for me ! 
But I cannot reach Him with this wdld cry — 

I cannot reach Him with this jDoor hand ; 

Peaceful He dwells in the peaceful land. 
And the smile on his face is untouched by me — 
Only another Eternity lost. 
Only another poor soul gone down, 

Far out at sea wdiile he smileth on ! 
The songs of Heaven are loud and sweet, 
And thrill His heart with joy ; it is meet 
That He should not catch the far-ofi" moan 
Of another soul undone — undone ! 
Here we part, God ! 

Thou to thy life and light, 
To the home where thy dear ones gather to Thee, 

I to my Death and Night, 
A lost thing, with nothing to do with Thee ; 



THE MEETING PLACE. 223 



Drifting (Jrearily out to sea. 
Thou hast shut from Thee my feeble prayer ; 
Let us part, O God ! 

II. 

Through the darkness over the sea 

A voice came calling — calling to me — 

A gentle voice through the angry night, 

And I thought, " Some one else is out to-night, 

Out, out, on the wide, wild sea ; 

Can it be any one seeking me ?" 
So I answered as well as I could from my place. 
Though the wind and rain were beating my face ; 

And through the darkness, over the sea. 

Still the voice came calling, calling to me ; 
Nearer and nearer it came to me, 
And one came into the boat from the sea. 
The wind fell low round my little bark 
As a wounded hand touched mine in the dark, 

And a weary head on my breast was laid ; 
And a trembling voice, as of one whom pain 

Had done to death, in a whisper said, 

" I had nowhere else to lay my head." 

ni. 
And it was thus that He came to me ; 
I had spoken against Him bitterly, 



224 COMIU! 



As of one who sat smiling on in heavep — 

Smiling and resting peacefully — 
While I was perishing tempest-driven ; 
But it was thus that He came to me, 
Through the deep waters struggling on, 
Wherein standing or foothold found He none ; 
The wild wind beating about His face, 
Fainting and sinking in that dark place ; 
He had been weary and fat from home, 
Struggling forsaken, alone— alone ! 

So out in the night on the wide, wild sea, 
When the wind was beating drearily. 
And the waters were moaning wearily, 

I met with Him who had died for me. 



COME! 

OH, word, of words the sweetest I 
Oh, word, in which there lie 
All promise, all fulfillment, 

And end of mystery ! 
Sorrowing or rejoicing, 

With doubt or terror nigh, 
I hear the " Come !" of Jesus, 
And to His cross I fly. 



COME! 225 



Sometimes so far I've Wcandcred, 

So lost I seem to be, 
That faintly, like an echo, 

I hear the " Come to Me." 
♦< Where art Thou, O. Beloved ?" 

Bewildered, sad, I cry ; 
Then, following that sweet summons, 

Till at Ilis feet I lie. 

Oh, soul I why shouldst thou wander 

From such a loving Friend ? 
Cling closer— closer to Ilim, 

Stay with Him to the end. 
Alas ! I am so helpless. 

So very full of sin, 
Forever I am wandering 

And coming back again. 

Oh, each time draw me nearer, 

That soon the " Come !'' may be 
Kaught but a gentle whisper 

To one close, close to Thee ; 
Then, over sea or mountain. 

Far from or near my home, 
I'll take Thy hand and follow, 

At that sweet whispered " Come I" 



INTO SIS HANDS. 



INTO HIS HANDS. 
Luther's HTivrsr. 

COMMIT thou all thy griefs 
And ways into His hands ; 
To His snre truth and tender love 

Who earth and heaven commands : 
Who points the clouds their course ; 

When winds and seas obey. 
He shall direct thy wandering feet, 
He shall prepare thy way. 

Put then thy trust in God ; 

In duty's path go on ; 
Fix on His word thy steadfast eye, 

So shall thy work be done, 
No profit canst thou gain 

By self-consuming care ; 
To Him commend thy cause, his ear 

Attends the softest prayer. 

Give to the winds thy fear, 
Hope, and be undismayed, 

God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears- 
God shall lift U13 thy head. 



INTO HIS BANDS. 227 



Through waves and clouds and storm, 

He gently cleaves the way ; 
Wait, then, His time ; the darkest night 

Shall end In brightest day. 

Still heavy is thy heart ? 

Still sinks thy spirit down ? 
Cast off the weight, let fear depart, 

And every care be gone. 
"What though thou rulest not, 

Yet earth and heaven and hell 
Proclaim God sitteth on the throne, 

And doetli all things well. 

Leave to His sovereign sway 

To choose and to command ; 
So shalt thou, wondering, own His way 

How wise, how strong His hand ; 
Far far above thy thoughts 

His counsel shall appear 
When fitly he the work hath wrought, 

That caused thy needless fear. 

Thou seest our weakness, Lord ! 

Our hearts are known to Thee ; 
Oh, lift then up the sinking heart, 

Confirm the feeble knee ! 



,228 ''MOBTALLY WOUNDED. 



Let us in life, in death, 

Thj steadfast truth declare, 

And publish with our latest breath 
Thy love and guardian care. 



"* MORTALLY WOUNDED:* 

I LAY me down to sleep. 
With little thought or care 
Whether my waking find 
Me here — or there ! 

A bowing, burdened head, 

Only too glad to rest, 
Unquestioning, upon 

A loving breast. 

My good right hand forgets 

Her cunning now ; 
To march the weary march 

I know not how. 

I am not eager, bold, 

Kor strong — all that is past I 
I am willing not to do^ 

At last, at last ! 



WITS FAITH AND PBA YEB. 229 

My half-day's work is done, 

And this is all my part : 
I give a patient God 

My patient heart ; 

And grasp His banner still. 

Though all its blue be dim ; 
These stripes, no less than stars, 

Lead after Him. 

Weak, weary and uncrowned, 

I yet to dear am strong ; 
Content not even to cry, 

" How long I How long 1" 



w 



WITH FAITH AND PRA YER. 

ITH faith and prayer, 
Dear Lord ! the burden Thou hast sent 
I gladly bear, 
For His dear sake who went— 
With mortal anguish rent, 

Up Pilate's stair— 
And from his judgment-hall 
Bearing His cross in weakness for us alL 



230 WITS FAITH AND PEA YEU. 



The faitb, how small 
O Lord ! with which I tread the way. 

Give, at my call, 
Faith that, from day to day, 
Is fed by Christ alway. 

I shall not fall ; 
But prove the promise blest, 
" We which believe, do enter into rest." 

The prayer, how weak 

Lord ! that lifts my heart to Thee. 

But this I seek — 
This one thing give to me — 
Help my infirmity ; 

Within me speak, 
And by the Spirit taught 

1 shall know what to pray for as I ought. 

From pain and care, 
O Lord ! I seek not to be free. 

But this my prayer — 
Open my eyes to see 
That Thou art leading me, 

Then I can bear 
To walk in darkness still, 
Walking with Thee, submissive to Thy will. 



WITH FAITH AKD PBA TEE. 231 



Clouds come and go, 
But, Lord, clouds only make more bright 

The after glow ! 
After tlie darkest night 
Will come the morning light, 

And well I know 
The morn itself may hide 
Its face, but light shall be at even-tide. 

Home is more near, 
O Lord, by every passing day ; 

Home is more dear 
By every prayer I pray — 
By every footstep of the way 

That brings me there. 
Where Thou art, let me be. 
For where Thou art is Home and Heaven to me. 

" A little while !" 
Dear, Lord, the precious words are thine ! 

A little while ! 
The blessed hope is mine, 
Till on these eyes shall shine 

Thy radiant smile, 
And thine own hand of grace 
Shall wipe all tears from my uplifced face. 



232 " THIS I DID FOB TREE;' ETC. 



THIS I DID FOR THEE— WHAT DOE ST 
THOU FOR ME?" 

I GAVE my life for thee, 
My precious blood I shed, 
That thou might'st ransomed be, 
And quickened from the dead. 
I gave my life for thee ; 
What hast thou given for me ? 

I spent long years for thee 

In weariness and woe, 
That one eternity 

Of joy tliou might'st know ; 
I spent long years for thee ; 
Hast thou spent one for me ? 

My Father's house of light, 

My rainbow-circled throne, 
I left for earthly night, 

For wanderings sad and lone ; 
I left it all for thee ; 
Hast thou left aught for me ? 

I suffered much for thee. 

More than thv tongue can tell, 



HE IS MY HHEPMEBD. 233 



Of bitterest agony, 

To rescue tliee from hell ; 
I suffered much for thee ; 
What dost thou bear for me ? 

And I have brought to thee, 

Down from my home above, 
Salvation full and free, 

My jDardon and my love ; 
Great gifts I brought to thee ; 
"What hast thou brought to me ? 

O let thy life be given, 

Thy years for me be spent. 
World-fetters all be riven, 

And joy with suffering blent ; 

Give thou thyself to me, 

And I will welcome thee ! 

—Motto placed under a print of Christ in the 
study of a German divine. 



HE IS MY SHEPHERD. 

HE is my Shepherd, I His sheep; 
I do not want to know 
Whether the way be soft or steep 
By which I am to go. 



234 SE IS MY SHEPHERD. 



If green and smooth the mountains be, 

I need not ask for more ; 
If stony, He will carry me, 

As He has done before. 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep ; 

We travel onward still, 
By pools, where water lilies sleep, 

By many a quiet hill ; 
I feed in many a grassy dell, 

I drink the waters clear ; 
The gracious Voice I know so well. 

Is music to my ear. 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep ; 

I wandered once, I know ; 
I heard Him on the mountains weep, 

That I should leave Him so. 
I trembled, as 1 faintly guessed 

A sorrow so divine, 
For as He clasped me to His breast 

The blood gushed forth on mine. 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep, 
And what if death be near ? 

The shadows up the valley creep. 
And yet I do not fear ; 



EE IS 31 Y SHEPHERD. 235 



As closer to His side I cling, 

I feel the way so true 
With which His love was pledged to bring, 

And safe has brought me through. 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep ; 

"We journey on and on, 
At last a smile upon His lips 

Shall tell me all is won. 
The table that He spreads for me 

My foes shall all behold, 
And in these trembling fingers see 

His cup of royal gold. 

The cup He put so gently by 

When death was drawing near, 
He freely fills for such as I, 

And tells me not to fear. 
And for those funeral odors shed 

Upon His dying brow, 
He pours the oil of joy instead 

On each disciple now. 

Shepherd, Good Shepherd ! turn and see I 

I follow far behind. 
Thy voice of mercy calling me, 

Comes borne on every wind. 



236 WALKING IN WHITE. 



Set wide Thy Father's open door, 
Tliat I the light may see 

And in His house forever more 
At last abide with Thee. 



WALKING INT WHITE. 

OLORD my God, 'tis early dawn, 
And I would walk with Thee to-day I 
Clothe me in garments white and clean, 
All bright and beautiful, I pray. 
Grant I may walk with, greatest care, 
So I may keep their lustre bright ; 
To-day, my Father, hear my prayer, 
And let me walk with Thee in white. 

The road was thorny yesterday. 

Because I walked so far from Thee ; 

Yet oft I heard Thee kindly say, 

" Come nearer, child ; come near to me !" 

With garments soiled on yestereve, 

I grieved to view the painful sight ; 

To day, my Father, O reprieve. 

And let me walk with Thee in white ! 



WALKING IN WSITE. 237 



Kow may I plunge within the tide — 
That fount for all ouj' guilt and woe, 
Once opened in my .'^aviour's side ; 
'Twill make my garments white as snow, 
With hands and feet, with head and heart, 
All clean and pure before thy sight. 
Not for one moment, Lord, dei)art, 
But let me walk with Thee in white ! 

No thought, no word, no deed to-day, 
Which may displease my blessed Lord ; 
No idle loitering by the way. 
But sweetly trusting in Thy Word. 
Whate'er my hands may find to do. 
That may I do with all my might: 
To-day, my Father, pure and true. 
Grant I may walk with Thee in white. 

The failures of the yesterday. 
The cares which may to-morrow come ; 
Each tear, each fear, now chase away, 
And guide me on my journey home. 
And when the evening shadows fall, 
And I come kneeling in Thy sight, 
Then may I feel, my Lord, my all, 
That I have walked with Thee in white. 



238 THE CROSS-BEAREB. 



And can I walk each day with Thee, 
With robes all white, and pure and clean 
Oh, tell me, Saviour, can I flee 
Forever from that monster — sin ? 
I know that in our home above, 
Thy saints in all their full delight 
Shall bask within redeeming love, 
And always walk with Thee in white. 



THE CROSS-BEARER. 

WHEN I set out to follow Jesus, 
My Lord a cross held out to me ; 
Which I must take, and bear it onward, 
If I would his disciple be. 

I turned my head another way, 

And said, Not this, my Lord, I pray ! 

Yet, as I could not quite refuse him, 

I sought out many another kind, 
And tried among those painted crosses 
The smallest of them all to find. 
But still the Lord held forth my own : 
This must thou bear, and this alone. 



THE CROSS-BEARER. 239 



Unlieeding Ahen my dear Lord's offer 

My burdens all on Ilim to lay, 
I tried myself my cross to lighten, 
By cutting part of it away. 

And still the more I tried to do, 
The rest of it more heavy grew. 

"Well, if I cannot go without it, 

I'll make of it the most I may ; 
And so I held my cross uplifted. 
In sight of all who came that way. 
Alasl my pride found bitterly. 
My cross looked small to all but me ! 

And then I was ashamed to bear it. 

Where others walked so free and light, 
And trailed it in the dust behind me, 
And tried to keep it out of sight. 
Till Jesus said, Art thou indeed 
Ashamed to follow as I lead ? 

Ko ! no ! — Why this shall be my glory^ 

All other things I'll count but loss. 
And so I even fashioned garlands. 
And hung them round about my cross. 
Ah, foolish one ! such works are dead 
Bear \tfo7' me, the Master said. 



240 TEE CBOSS-BEAEEB. 



And still I was not prompt to mind him, 

But let my self-will choose the way ; 
And sought me out new forms of service, 
And would do all things but obey. 
My Lord ! I bless Thee for the pain 
That drove ray heart to Thee again. 

I bore it then, with Him before me, 

Right onward through the day's white heat : 
Till, with the toil and j)ain o'ermastered, 
I fainting fell down at His feet. 

But for His matchless care that day, 
I should have perished where I lay. 

But oh, I grew so very weary 

When life and sense crept back once more ! 
The whole horizon hung with darkness, 
And grief where joy had been before ; 
Better to die, I said, and rest, 
Than live with such a burden i3ressed. 

Then Jesus spoke : Bring here thy burden, 

And find in me a full release ; 
Bring all thy sorrows, all thy longings, 
And take instead my perfect peace. 
Trying to bear thy cross alone ! — 
Child, the mistake is all thine own. 



FINISHED WORK. 241 



And now my cross is all supported, — 
Part on my Lord, and part on me : 
But as He is so much the stronger, 
He seems to bear it — I go free. 
I touch its weight, just here and here, — 
Weight that would crush, were He not near. 

Or if at times it seemeth heavy ; 

And if I droop along the road ; 
The Master lays His own sweet promise* 
Between my shoulder and the load : 
Bidding my heart look up, not down, 
Till the cross fades before the crown. 



FINISHED WORK. 

FINISHED work ! For Jesus dieth ; 
Woes and stripes and sufferings cease. 
Finished work ! For Jesus liveth. 
Leaving us His perfect peace. 

Finished work ! Oh, blessed promise, 

Toiling, fainting by the way ; 
Finished work shall we accomplish 

If we only watch and pray. 

* " The pillow of the promise."— ^w^/ier/orcf. 
21 



242 " POST TENEBEAS L UX. ' 



Finislied work ! Oh, Holy Spirit, 
Help our faith and keep us pure ! 

Finished work ! The Master saith it, 
Like the rock His word is sure. 

Finished work ! When it is ended, 
Perfect love shall cast out fear. 

Finished work ! Co-workiijg with Him, 
In His form shall we appear. 

Finished work ! Oh, glorious foretaste ! 

Leaning then on Jesus' breast ; 
Finished work ! No tears, no sorrow, 

But eternal, heavenly rest. 



I 



"POST TENEBRAS LUX." 
T is His way, and so it must be right 



Although at every step some foot that bleeds 
Leaves print of anguish, still our Father leads 

Through darkness unto light. 
So dark it seems ! We long for break of day ; 
We know not Jesus on the midnight flood. 
Ah, once He trod the path of woe and blood, 

His solitary way ! 



" rOST T]iJNEBRAS LUX.'' 243 



And yet that path of deepest gloom and woe 
Led up to glory, greater for the cross 
To which he bowed in life-long want and loss, 

With " Father, even so !" 
For midnight darkness often bears within 
Its baffling blackness germs of heaven's light; 
God's holiness is not one ray less bright 

For all this dark world's sin. 

He holds us in the hollow of His hand, 
And gives us light as we can bear it now. 
His glory's shadow upon Moses' brow 

Was brightness far too grand 
For sinful Israel's eyes to look upon ; 
Yet those whose patient hearts seek daily strength, 
Shall surely have the eagle's wings at length, 

To mount toward the sun. 

And eagle's vision^ clear and bright and strong. 
E'en here is given those whose hearts are pure ; 
They, seeing Him invisible, endure, 

Although the way be long. 
To them a light ariseth ; and the day. 
Hid from Egyptian eyes by dark eclipse. 
Shines bright as noon, and on their trustful lips 

Wakes praises while they pray. 



244 BEAUTIFUL HANDS. ' 



And so Tre need no longer vainly grope, 
Moaning tlie poet's deatli-cry. " Light, more light !" 
We need not earth's dark lanterns, for the night 

Is brilliant with the ho23e 
Of fairer day-dawn than e'er blessed the hills 
Of God around Jerusalem of old. 
Ay ! while we watch the east, a flush of gold 

The glad horizon fills. 

For God is light itself: in Him we know 
There is no darkness ; and when we at last 
Dwell in Him truly, darkness shall be past, 

And life be all aglow. 
O Christian ! as the bird that sings at night, 
Or, as the bird that God has taught to wait 
Until the daybreak, sing at heaven's gate, 

For, " after darkness, light !" 



BEAUTIFUL HANDS. 

SUCH beautiful, beautiful hands. 
They're neither white nor small, 
And you I know, would scarcely think 
That they were fair at all. 



BEAUTIFUL HANDS. 245 



I've looked on hands whose form and hue 

A sculptor's dream might be, 
Yet are these aged wrinkled hands 

Most beautiful to me. 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands — 

Though heai-t was weary and sad. 
These patient hands kept toiling on, 

That the children might be glad. 
I almost weep, as looking back 

To childhood's distant day, 
I think how these hands rested not 

When mine were at their play. 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands, 

They're growing feeble now ; 
For time and pain have left their mark 

On hand and heart and brow. 
Alas ! alas ! the nearing time, 

And the sad, sad day to me. 
When 'neath the daisies, out of sight, 

These hands will folded be. 

But oh, beyond this shadow-lamp. 

Where all is bright and fair, 
I know full well these dear old hands 

Will palms of victory bear. 
21* 



246 -3f F SHIPS. 



Where crystal streams, through endless years, 

Flow over golden sands, 
And where the old grow young again, 

I'll clasp my mother's hands. 



MY SHIPS. 
I. 

AH, years ago !- 
Beneath what roof or sky, 
I dreamed of days, perhaps remote, 
When ships of mine that were afloat 

Should in the harbor lie, 
And all the costly freights they bore 
Enrich me both in mind and store. 

What dreams they were of Argosies 

Laden in many a clime ; 
So stoutly built, so bravely manned, 
No fear but they would come to land 

At their appointed time ; 
And I should see them, one by one, 
Close furl their sails in summer's sun. 

And then, while men in wonder stood, 
My ships I would unlade ; 



MY sniFS. 247 



My treasures vast they should behold, 
And to my learning and my gold 

What honors would be paid ! 
And though the years might come and go, 
I could but wiser, richer grow. 

TT. 

In later years, — no matter where. 

Beneath what roof or sky, 
I saw the dreams of days remote 
Fade out, and ships that w^ere afloat, 

As drifting wrecks go by. 
And all the many freights they bore 
Lay fathoms deep, or strewed the shore ! 

While ships of w^hich I never thought 

Were sailing o'er the sea ; 
And one by one, with costlier lade, 
In safety all the voyage made, 

And brought their freights to me ; 
What I had lost but trifle seemed, 
And I was richer than I dreamed 1 

No wondering crowd, with envious eye. 

Looked on my treasures rare ; 
Yet they were weightier far than gold ; 
Thev still increase, though I grow old, 



248 -^ THE FIELD. 



And are beyond compare : 
Would all the restless hearts I see, 
Hud ships like these that caine to me ! 



IN THE FIELD. 

FIGHTING the Battle of Life ! 
With a weary heart and head ; 
For in the midst of the strife, 
The banners of joy are fled. 
Fled and gone out of sight, 

When I thought they were so near, 
And the music of hope this night, 
Is dying away on my ear. 

Fighting alone to-night — 

With not even a stander-by 
To cheer me in the fight, 

Or to hear me wlien I cry. 
Only the Lord can hear, 

Only the Lord can see 
The struggle within, liow dark and drear, 

Though quiet the outside be. 

Lord, I would fain be still 
And quiet behind my shield 1 



IN THE FIELD. 249 



But make me to love Thy will, 
For fear I should ever yield. 

Even as now, my hands, 
So doth my folded will 

Lie waiting Thy commands, 
Yfithout one anxious thrill. 

But, as with sudden pain, 

My hands unfold and clasp — • 
So doth my will start up again. 

And taketh its old firm grasp. 
Nothing but perfect trust. 

And love of Thy perfect will. 
Can raise me out of the dust. 

And bid my fears be still. 

O Lord, Thou hidest Thy face. 

And tlie battle clouds prevail ; 
O grant me Thy most sweet grace. 

That I may not utterly fail ! 
Fighting alone to-night ! 

"With what a sinking heart — 
Lord Jesus, in the fight, 

O stand not thou apart ! 



250 EEVIVED. 



RE V I V ED. 

BREAK out my lieart in joyous strain, 
The sun has conquered night's sad reign, 
And sheds down radiance clear ; 
Soon as the King turned round his face * 
My sorrow gave to rapture place ! 
Now light and life are here. 
The spices flow 
God's work to show, 
Within His garden wrought. 
O Lord, my Lord ! 
By Thy dear Word, 
How is my heart continually restored ! 

My soul in doubt and bondage lay, 
And all my joy had fled away — 

I sought Him, He was gone ! 
My pardon I could call to mind, 
But still my Lord I could not find — 
'Twas day without the sun ! 

* " While the King turns round, my spikenard sendeth forth 
the smell thereof."— German Bible. 
In our version the words are : 

'• Sitteth at his table." 



REVIVED. 251 

Then near He drew, 
And touched me, too, 
With His most gracious hand ; 
Saviour mine, 
That touch of Tliine 
A Fountain proves of balsam most divine. 

Blessing, salvation, Life and Light, 
And all my wealth and all my might 

On look of Thine depend ; 
Just as when earth lies steeped in dew, 
Let but the morning sun break through. 
Scents from wak'd flowers ascend ; 
In my heart's ground, 
The blossoms found. 
Breathe sweet upturned to Thee ! 
When Thy beams bright 
Dispel the night 
They raise their drooping faces to the light. 

Hosannas to my sun Til raise, 

Break forth my heart in joy and praise, 

Break forth in happy song ! 
Lord, I am all too weak to sing, 
I cnly stammer out, my King, 

Thanks that to Thee belong. 



252 GRANDFATHER'S PET. 



Wake up my heart, 
All fear, all smart, 
Thy Saviour's touch can heal. 
Lord Christ, to Thee 
All glory be. 
Who art the same throughout eternity ! 



GRANDFATHER'S PET. 

THIS is the room where she slept, 
Only a year ago — 
Quiet, and carefully swept, 
Blinds and curtains like snow. 
There, by the bed in the dusty gloom. 

She would kneel with her tiny clasped hands 
and pray ! 
Here is the little white rose of a room, 
With the fragrance fled away ! 

Nelly, grandfather's iDct, 

With her wise little face — 
I seem to hear her yet 
Singing about the place ; 
But the crowds roll on, and the streets are drear, 
And the world seems hard with a bitter doom, 
And Nelly is singing elsewhere — and liere 
Is the little W'hite rose of a room. 



OBANDFATHEPC S PET. 253 



Why, if she stood just there, 

As she used to do, 
With her long light yellow hair, 
And her eyes of blue — 
If she stood, I say, at the edge of the bed, 
And ran to my side with a living touch, 
Though T know she is quiet and buried and dead, 
I should not wonder much ; 

For she was so young, you know — 

Only seven years old, 
And she loved me, loved me so. 
Though I was gray and old ; 
And her face was so wise, and so sweet to see. 

And it still looked living, w'hen she lay dead. 
As she used to plead for mother and me 
By the side of that very bed ! 

I wonder, now, if she 

Knows I am standing here, 
Feeling, wherever she be. 
We hold the place so dear ? 
It cannot be that she sleeps too sound. 

Still in her little night-gown dressed, 
Not to hear my footsteps sound 
In the room where she used to rest. 



254: TRUST. 



I have felt hard fortune's stings, 

And battled in doubt and strife, 
And never thought much of things 
Beyond this human life ; 
But I cannot think that my darling died 

Like great, strong men, with their prayers un- 
true — 
Nay, rather she sits at God's own side, 
And sings as she used to do ! 



TR US T. 

I CANNOT see with my short human sight, 
Why God should lead this way or that for me ; 
I only know He saith, " Child, follow me ;" 
But I can trust. 

I know not why my path should be at times 
So straightly hedged, so strangely barred before ; 
I only know God could keep wide the door ; 
But [ can trust. 

1 find no answer, often, when beset 
With questions fierce and subtle on my way, 
And often have but strength to faintly pray ; 
But I can trust. 



JERUSALEM TEE GOLDEN. 255 



I often wonder, as witli trembling hand 
I cast the seed along the furrowed ground, 
If ripened fruit for God will there be found ; 
But I can trust. 

I cannot know why suddenly the storm 
Should rage so fiercely round me in its wrath ; 
But this I know, God watches all my j^ath ; 
And I can trust. 

I may not draw aside the mystic veil 
That hides the unknown future from my sight ; 
Nor know if for me waits the dark or light ; 
But I can trust. 

I have no power to look across the tide. 
To know, while here, the land beyond the river ; 
But this I know, I shall be God's forever ! 
So I can trust. 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. 

JERUSALEM the Golden, 
I languish for one gleam 
Of all thy glory foldcn 
In distance, and in dream ! 
21* 



256 J^E^ US ALE 21 THE G OLDEN. 



My thoughts like palms in exile, 
Climb lip to look and pray 

For a glimpse of that dear country 
That lies so far away. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

Me thinks each flower that blows, 
And every bird a singing, 

Of the same secret knows ! 
I know not what the flowers 

Can feel, or singers see, 
But all these summer raptures 

Are prophecies of thee. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

When sun-set's in the west, 
It seems the gate of glory. 

Thou city of the blest ! 
And midnight's starry torches, 

Through intermediate gloom, 
Are waving with their welcome. 

To thy eternal home. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

Where loftily they sing, 
O'er pain and sorrows olden 

Forever triumphing ! 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. 257 



Lowly may be tby portal 

And dark may be the door, 
Tbe mansion is immortal ! — 

God's palace for His poor. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

There all our birds that flew, — 
Our flowers but half unfolden, 

Our pearls that turned to dew, — 
And all the glad life music 

Now heard no longer here. 
Shall come again to greet us, 

As we are drawing near. 

Jerusalem the Golden, 

I toil on day by day ; 
Heart-sore each night with longing, 

I stretch my hands and pray 
That midst thy leaves of healing 

My soul may find her nest, 
Where the wicked cease from troubling, 

The weary are at rest. 



22* 



258 AFTER THE BATTLE. 



AFTER THE BATTLE. 

MY -wound is deep, I fain would sleep ; O 
I stretch my hands to Thee ! [Lord, 

Do Thou according to Thy faithful word, 
And set Thy servant free ! 

Sore hath the battle been, but Victory 

Crowned me as evening fell ; 
Now heart and flesh are failing, let me see 

The land where I would dwell. 



Its thunders sunk to rest ; 
And I can feel the touch upon my brow 
Of low winds from the West ; 

The clouds of sleep, the last and longest sleep, 

Are heavy on mine eyes ; 
They cannot watch, dear Lord, they cannot weep 

Beneath Thy dark'ning skies. 

What time the angel, Victory, came down 

To bid my conflict cease, 
And crowned my tired soul with the shining 

Of Righteousness and Peace, [crown 



AFTER THE BATTLE. 259 



That instant broke the sound as of a knell 

On the faint evening's breath ; 
And on my parched mouth, like the dew there 

The soft sweet kiss of Death ; [fell 

For Victory and Death walk hand in hand 
• Down all the battle-field — 
One ruddy as the dawn, the other grand, 
But pale behind his shield ; 

And whom God loves, to whom is victory 

On such a field as this. 
Receive the radiant angel's crown, and see 

The pale cold angers kiss ; 

That kiss has made my spirit faint and weak ; 

Lord, take me to Thy breast ; 
Oh, fold me closely, where the weariest seek 

And find Eternal Rest ! 

Christ, who has been my perfect sun by day. 

Will be my star by night ; 
On my deep rest the Lord shall shine alway, 

An everlasting Light. 

Dimly I see Him, through the clouds that roll 

Along the dark'ning West: 
O Lord, my Star, by Thy sweet light my soul 

Doth enter into Rest. 



260 THE CLOUD VISIOJ^. 



THE CLOUD vision: 

IN the chill December weather, 
When the earth all barren lies ; 
When the dead leaves drift together, 
And the feathery snow-flake flies : 
When thus ends the Spring-time sowing. 
Summer's brightness, beauty, light, 
Autumn, too, its fruits bestowing ; 
Then how drear the grave's dark night ! 

Such the thought, when toward God's acre, 
'Mid broad fields and woodlands found, 
We went forth in midst of winter. 
There to make in frozen ground. 
And where all was bare and leafless, 
Resting place for baby's head ; 
Which so oft when tired and restless, 
We had laid on downy bed. 

Rough winds blew the falling snow-flakes ; 
Clouds dropped low like funeral pall. 
O'er the grave where we with heart-ache 
Asked, " Of life, can this be all ?"— 
And took up our baby darling. 
There to lay him, side by side, 
With his sister, softly sleeping ; 
Who, ere he was born, had died. 



THE CLOUD VISIOK 261 



Scarcely was the sad rite ended, 
And our little one at rest ; 
When beneath the clouds, now lifted, 
Shone the sun from out the West ; 
Filling earth and sky with beauty ; 
Painting clouds \n ith gorgeous hue ; 
Opening ujd the path of glory ; 
Bringing gates of pearl to view. 

Slowly changed the sunset splendor, 

As the evening shades drew nigh, 

Into light of clearest amber, 

All along the western sky ; 

When two clouds, of scarce a hand-breadth, 

Just above the sun were seen. 

All aglow with light that answered 

To its beams of golden sheen. 

There they stood, as might God's angels, 
Ling'ring on the heavenly heights, 
When come back from glad evangels 
Taking note of their long flights : 
Then, as if one thought possessing, 
Nearer to each other drew ; 
And, as though in fond caressing, 
Vanished quickly out of view. 



262 ^^R ^ ^ BEFORE HA GRIFICE. 



'T was as tlioiigli our baby children, 
Stood transfigured to our sight : 
One, come forth from gate of Heaven, 
And from out its mansions bright ; 
Welcome bringing to the other, 
Hastening from the earth away : — 
Sister welcoming the brother, 
To the realms of endless day. 

Was it not a heavenly vision, 

Which our Lord in pity sent ? 

Was not this its kindly mission — 

This His merciful intent, 

Our grieved hearts to keej) from murmur, 

O'er this second bitter cup ; 

Which that day in bleak December, 

To our lips, we lifted up ? 



MERCY BEFORE SACRIFICE. 
" Come unto me and I will give you rest." 

CO]ME to the clear deep river, 
Come where the pastures call ; 
Give to the great good Giver 
The trust that is thy all. 



MERCY BEFORE SACRIFICE 

From want eternal fleeing, 
Come to an endless store ; 

Bring tliy whole famished being, 
Fo^^r He wants nothing more. 

If thoughts of thine appall thee, 

Oh, lean on His and live 1 
To sacritice they call thee, 
"While He is here to give 
Accept thy Father's measure 

OfneedthatHecansee. 

The heart to do His pleasure 

Is in His love for thee. 

He will not now refuse thee, 

Weak hand and vision dim ; 
For something He will use thee, 

But first thou wantest Him. 
The spirit worn with straying, 

Will find His judgment best : 
Oh, hear what He is saying. 
And yield thyself to rest. 

For one transporting minute 
The beckoning word obey : 

There is a power within it 
To bear thee on thy way. 



263 



264 ' ' IT MIGHT HA YE BEEK'' 



That voice of mercy speaking, 
Is God the Saviour's might, 

And all thy heart is seeking 
Lies safely in its light. 



"/r MIGHT HAVE BEEN:' 

LED by kindlier hand than ours, 
We journey through this earthly scene, 
And should not, in our weary hours, 
Turn to regret what might have been. 

And yet these hearts, when torn by j^ain, 
Or wrung by disappointment keen, 
Will seek relief from present cares 
In thoughts of joys that might have been. 

But let us still these wishes vain ; 
We know not that of which w^e dream. 
Our lives might have been sadder yet ; 
God only knows what might have been. 

Forgive us, Lord, our little fiith ; 

And help us all, from morn till e'en, 

Still to believe that lot the best 

Which is— not that wiiich might have been. 



A VBBY PRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE. 265 



And grant we may so pass the days 
The cradle and the grave between, 
That death's dark hour not darker be 
For thoiiffhts of what life niight have been. 



A VERY PRESENT HELP IN TROUBLE. 

TRUST in the Lord ! yea, trust in Him ; 
Renew thy strength again ; 
For He, from whom thy faith w^as born. 
That faith will still sustain. 

Commit thy way to Him, to whom 

Thou dost commit thy soul ; 
He sees the path by thee unseen : 

On Flim thy burden roll. 

Wait thou on Him ; His time is best 

His wisdom shall declare : 
Wait thou in patient hope, and trace 

A Father's tender care. 

Rest upon Him, on Him, thy Lord, 

Till thou canst see His face ; 
Folded within each purpose lie 

Deep mysteries of grace. 



2G6 ^ VERY FMESENT HELP IN TROUBLE. 

He nourishes the comfortless ; 

He sends thee gloomy days, 
To train thy soul for nobler flight, 

And give thee themes for praise. 

He sends the blast ; He bids the storm 

Sweep o'er His richest land, 
To prove the trees of righteousness 

Are planted by His hand. 

He lets the tear-mist float above 

The valley's fairest spot ; 
And the budding grass is greenest where 

Our earthly joys are not. 

He sends His springs among the hills, 

When other streams decline ; 
And where the flowery gourd hath drooped. 

He trains His fruitful vine. 

Whoso is wise, and all His works 

With watchful care discern. 
The loving kindness of the Lord 

They, even they, shall learn. 



1 



A LITTLE WHILE. 267 



A LITTLE WHILE. 

A LITTLE while of mingled joy and sorrow, 
A few more years to wander thus below ; 
To wait the dawning of that golden morrow, 
When morn shall break above our night of woe. 

A few more thorns about our pathway growing, 
Ere yet our hands may cull the heavenly flow- 
ers ; 

The morning comes, but, first, the tearful sowing, 
Ere w^e repose these weary souls ot ours. 

A few more hours of weariness and sighing. 
Of mourning o'er the power of inner sin ; 

A little while of daily crucifying, 

To this vain world, the evil heart within. 

A little longer in this vale of weeping, 
Of yearning for the sinless home above ; 

A little while our marriage garments keeping 
Unspotted, by the power of Him we love. 

A little while for winning souls to Jesus, 
Ere we behold His beauty face to face ; 

A little while for healing soul diseases. 
By telling others of a Saviour's grace. 



268 MIGRTY TO SA VK 

A little while to spread the joyful story 

Of Him who made our guilt and curse His own ; 

A little while ere Vvx behold the glory, 

To gain fresh jewels for our heavenly crown. 

A little while, then we shall dwell for ever 
Within our bright, our everlasting home. 

Where time, or space, or death can no more sever 
Our grief-wrung hearts, and pain can never 
come. 

'Tis but a little while ; the way is dreary. 
The night is dark, but we are nearing land ; 

O for the rest of heaven, for we are weary, 
And lono; to mingle with the deathless band ! 



MIGHTY TO SAVE. 
Isaiah Ixiii. 1. 

THE King of Glory standeth, 
Beside that heart of sin. 
His mighty voice commandeth, 

The raging waves within. 
The floods of deepest anguish, 

Roll backward at Mis will, 
As o'er the storm ariseth 

His mandate, " Peace be still." 



MIGHTY TO SAVE. 269 



At times with sudden glory, 

He speaks and all is doue ; 
Without one stroke of battle 

The victory is won. 
While we with joy beholding, 

Can scarce believe it true, 
That e'en our Kingly Jesus, 

Can form such hearts anew. 

He comes in blood-stained garments ; 

Upon His brow a crown ; 
The gates of brass fly open. 

The iron bands drop down. 
From off the fettered captive 

The chains of Satan fall. 
While angels shout triumphant 

That Christ is Lord of all. 

But sometimes in the stillness 

He gently draweth near, 
And whispers words of welcome 

Into the sinner's ear ; 
With anxious heart awaiteth 

The answer to his cry, 
The oft-repeated question, 

O wherefore wilt thou die ? 
23* 



270 MIQHTY TO b'AVE, 



Or in the gathering darkness, 

With wounded feet and sore, 
The suppliant Saviour standeth. 

And knocketh at the door. 
The bleak winds howl around Him, 

The unbelief and sin ; 
Yet Jesus waits, entreating 

That He may enter in. 

He whispers through the portal, 

He woos us with His love ; 
He calls us to the kingdom, 

That waits for us above. 
He speaks of all the gladness. 

His yearning heart would give ; 
Tells of the flowing fountain. 

And bids us wash and live. 

O Christ, Thy love is mighty ! 

Long suffering is Thy grace ! 
And glorious is the splendor 

That beameth from Thy face ! 
Our hearts uj^leap in gladness. 

When we behold that love ; 
As \Ye go singing onward. 

To dwell with Thee above ! 



i 



TENEO ET TENEOn. 271 



''TENEO ET TENEORr 

u nr HOLD and I am held !" What hold I to ; 

JL And what holds me ? I hold thy cross, 
thou Word 
Of the Eternal ! Where the envious Jew 

Pierced Thee, my fingers press nor can be 
stirred, 
Though hell oppose ! By Thee my soul is held ! 

By all Gethsemane's agony and grief 
United, joined, and naught can break the weld 

But my own want of faith — my unbelief ! 

O God of Calvary ! O Lord divine ! 

Hold me and I am held ! I cannot slide 

When pressing closely to thy bleeding side, 
Though men and devils 'gainst my soul combine ! 

Nor shall I wander far, if in the vail 
Of Jesus' flesh, my anchor has been cast ; 

But I shall hear the welcome plaudit — " Hail 
Beloved, enter into rest !" at last. 



272 BETHANY. 



BE T H A N V. 

SIX days before the Passover, 
The blessed Saviour came 
To Bethany, where He remained. 

Until His hour of shame ; 
His last abode was in the home 

Of Lazarus, His friend ; 
Those He had loved while in the world, 
He loved unto the end. 

The shadow of the Passion lay 

Brooding on all around. 
Though what it meant they could not know, 

Its depth was too profound 
For mortal eye to search it out, — 

Though woman's * love might see 
Further than most into the shade 

Of that great Mystery. 

His sacred Heart in its lone depths 

Was heaving at the thought. 
That human nature's perfectness 

Through suffering must be wrought. 

* St. Matt. xxvi. 12. 



BETHANY. 273 



And yet He set Kis face to go 

AYith firm endurance on, 
And rose above the nature weak 

That clothed the Eternal Son : 

And He did then for evermore 

That form of trial bless, 
If only sinking hearts to Him 

Will turn in their distress ; 
One ray of glory in the Crown 

That on His brows is set, 
Is drawn from those deep pangs of Fear 

He never can forget. 

Not for Himself alone He fears, — 

That all-foreseeing Eye 
Distinguishes each single throb, 

Of human agony ; 
He wept o'er every closing grave, 

Unto the end of time ; 
His soul drank in the rising swell 

Of sorrow's awful chime. 

He took full measure of the grief 

Of every separate saint, 
As one by one, each on his cross 

Must tremble and grow faint ; 



274 BETHANY. 



He knew, Ihongli He bad given them rest, 
They first must find sore strife, 

Must seek e'en through the gates of Death 
His promised gift of Life. 

Yet even then His joy arose 

For ever to increase, 
In knowing that this suffering host 

Woukl find in Him their peace ; 
The travail of His soul might bow 

That sacred Head to earth, 
Yet He is satisfied to see 

The new Creation's birth. 

He feels tlie presence of meek love 

Already at Ilis side, 
The gentle ones who cling to Him, 

And breast the world's strong tide ; 
He sees the eyes that to Ilim turn, 

The hands that seek His own, 
Those who in sharpest discipline. 

Trust Him, and Him alone. 

Apostles, Martyrs, the long line 

Of royal, warrior soul. 
Flash on Him their triumphant smiles 

From where the Future n lis ; 



WAITING. 275 



The wliite-robed multitude, whom none 

Can number or declare, 
Waft Ilim their floating voice of praise 

Already on the air. 

Lord ! since our griefs on Thee were laid, 

And Thou hast felt their sting, 
Help us in holiest calm to take 

Our turn of suflfering : 
Thou didst look on unto Thy Joy, 

And so by grace will we, 
But we would clasp Thy Cross, and feel 

We owe that Joy to Thee. 



WA I TING. 

LORD of my nights and days I 
Let my desire be, 
Not to be rid of Earth, 
But nearer Thee — 

If I may nearer draw 

Thro' lengthened grief and pain; 
Then to continue here, 

Must be my gain ; 

Till I have strengthened been. 



276 WAITING. 



Of that Eternal Life, 
I long to clasp ; 

Till I am so refined, 

I can tlie glory bear, 
Of that excess of joy, 

I thirst to share ; 

Till I am meet to gaze 

On uncreated Light, 
Transformed, and perfected, 

By that new sight. 

Sorrow's long lesson o'er. 

Death's discipline gone through, 
Thou wilt unfold to me 

What Joy can do. 

Glad souls are on the wing, 
From Earth to Heaven they flee : 

At last ! Thine hour will come. 
To send for me. 

Reveal the Mighty Love, 

That binds Thy Heart to mine : 
Thy Counsels and my will 

Should intertwine. 



ALFBA AND OMEQA. 277 



Lord of my lieart and hopes 1 

Let my desire be, 
Not to be rid of Earth, 

But one with Thee. 



ALPHA AND OMEGA. 

ALPHA and Omega ! 
Be Thou my First and Last 
The Source whence I descend, 
The Joy to which I tend, 
When Earth is past. 



Open my waking eyes, 

And fill them with Thy Light ; 

For Thee each phm begun, 

In Thee each duty done. 
Close them at night. 

Enfold me when asleep. 
Let soft dews from above 
Refresh the long day's toil. 
Wash off the worldly soil. 
And strengthen Love. 

Men speak of Four Last Things 
Death, and the Judgment Hall, 
24 



278 ALPHA AND OMEQA. 



Hell, and the Heaven so fair : 
But Thou, O Lord ! art there, 
Beyond them all. 

There is no " last " with Thee, 

But only our last Sins, 
Last Sorrows, and last Tears, 
Last Sicknesses, last Fears, 

Then Joy begins : 

Joy without bound or end, 

Concentric circles bright, 
Spreading from round Thy Throne, 
Flowing from Thee alone, 

Love ! O Light ! 

Lay Thy right Hand of Power 

In blessing on my brow ; 
Heaven's Keys are in Thy Hand, 
Its Portals open stand, 

1 fear not now. 

Lead Thou me gently in. 

Thou who through Death hast past : 
Then bring me to Thy Throne, 
For Thee I seek alone, 

My First and Last. 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



All is Known to Thee. . . . ; 20 

A Little While 45 

Alone, yet not Alone 51 

Anchor within the Veil, The 109 

All is Light 323 

Asleep on Guard 182 

All in Christ 163 

Abide with Us ITO 

After the Battle. .. 268 

A Little "S\Tiile 207 

Alpha and Omega 277 

A Very Present Help in Trouble 265 

Border Lands, The 18 

Bridegroom's Dove, The 35 

Bridges 126 

Burial of Moses, The - 138 

Better Life, The 172 

Bringing our Sheaves with Us 219 

Beautiful Hands 244 

Bethany 272 

Changed Cross, The 5 

Call, The 82 

Cross and Crown, The 86 

Coming 116 

Christian and his Echo, The 144 

Comfort by the Way .147 

(279) 



280 INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



Christmas Hymn, A 153 

Communion with God 158 

Cross, The 185 

Crown, The 1S6 

Come ! 224 

Cross-Bearer, The 238 

Cloud Vision, The 260 

Delectable Mountains, The 107 

Distractions in Prayer 113 

Drawing Water 175 

. Evening Prayer 62 

Even Me 87 

Eleventh Hour, The 217 

Euthanasy 215 

Faith's Eepose 106 

Father, take my Hand ., 128 

For the New Year 198 

Footsteps on the Other Side 210 

Funeral Hymn 212 

Finished Work 241 

Gone Home 211 

God our Strength 15 

God. my Exceeding Joy 39 

God's Support and Guidance 41 

God's An\-il S5 

Grief was sent for thy Good 96 

God'sWays HI 

Gracious Answer, The l^^O 

Grandfather's Pet 252 

HolyTears 13 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 281 



47 
Hinder me Not ^^ 

Heaven - .^3^ 

Hour of Prayer, Tlie ^^^ 

Hymn of Trust ^'^^ 

Himself hath done it ^33 

He is my Shepherd 

43 

I Am gQ 

I Cling to Thee 



ItisI; Benotafraid ^^^ 

ItisWell 22g 

Into His Hands ^48 

In the Field ,^g^ 

" It Might Have Been " 

255 
Jerusalem the Golden 

25 

Lost Treasures ^^^ 

Leave Me not Now ^^^ 

Longings ^~^ 

Light in Darkness ^^^ 

Living Waters 

Long Good-Night, The ^J° 

Less and More 

9 

Meeting Place, The 

My Times are in Thy Hand ^^ 

Mary's Choice ^g 

My Lambs ^^^ 

MyGuest ^g^ 

Ministry ^^^ 

Memories 221 

Meeting Place, The ^^g 

" Mortally Wounded " • • ' 

24* 



282 IXDEX TO SUBJECTS. 



My Ships 246 

Mercy before Sacrifice 262 

Mighty to Save 2G8 

" Nearer Home " 33 

Near Jesus 66 

Nature and Faith 76 

Now 141 

Need of Jesus, The , 14',; 

Oh ! for the Happy Days Gone By 22 

One by One 81 

Oh ! to be Ready 84 

Oh ! my Saviour Crucified 89 

Onward 95 

O Lord I Thou Knowest Vi^ 

Pilgrim, the 11 

Pilgrim's Wants, The 56 

Pilgrim of Earth 69 

Peace of God, The 89 

Peace 91 

Prayer for Strength 93 

Pray for whom thou Lovest 174 

Perpetuity of Joy in Heaven 200 

Pathways of the Holy Land 196 

Prayer out of the Depths 187 

" Post Tenebras Lux " 242 

Quiet Mind, A 121 

Eeturn thee to thy Rest 65 

Retrospect 148 

Revived 250 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS. 283 



Sunday 27 

School of Suffering 52 

Supplication 6^ 

Scenes on Jordan's Strand STf 

Sufferer Cheered, The 161 

Salome 190 

There is Light Beyond 99 

Thy Will be Done 1^5 

Thy Will be Done 102 

They Shall be Mine 103 

Tempest-Tossed, The . 1*6 

Time lor Prayer, The l-'''^ 

True Dream. A I'^T 

Through the Flood on Foot 202 

" This I did for Thee— What doest Thou for me ?" 232 

Trust 254 

'' Teneo et Teneor " 271 

Voice from Ilcaven, A 59 

Verdict of Death, The 150 

Wandering Heart, The 63 

Wholly Resigned 15 

Wlio is my Brother ? 68 

What is this that He Saith ? "71 

Widow of Nain. The 194 

Way, the Truth, and the Life, The 154 

We are the Lord's 214 

With Faith and Prayer 229 

Walking in White 236 

Waiting 2T5 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES, 



After long days of storms and showers 27 

Alas ! for the wildly wandering heart 63 

Amid the shadows and the fears 109 

All in weakness, all in sorrow 18T 

Another year, another year 198 

Ah, years ago !— no matter where a. d. r. b. 246 

A little while of mingled joy and sorrow 267 

Alpha and Omega I 277 

Beyond the smiling and the weeping . . .horatius eonae. 45 

Beyond the stars that shine in golden glory a. shipton. 99 

By Nebo's lonely mountain mrs. c. f. Alexander. 138 

Breezes of spring, all earth to life awaking 157 

Break out my heart in joyous strain 250 

Christ leads us through no darker rooms . . .rich. Baxter. 15 

Come forth 1 come on with solemn song 212 

Commit thou all thy griefs 226 

Coui e to the clear deep river A. l. waring. 202 

Early my spirit turned JAS. w. Alexander. 39 

Father, I know that all my life anna l. waring. 16 

Father, into Thy loving hands IS 

Forsake me not, my God Trans, jas. w. Alexander, 41 

Father of mercy ! at the close of day 62 

Father I before Thy footstool kneeling 93 

Four little words, no more 101 

(28 i) 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 285 



Father, beneath Thy sheltering wing 106 

Fainl, and worn, and aged 217 

Finished work I For Jesus dieth F. A. l, 241 

Fighting the Battle of Life I 248 

Gone home I gone home 1 She lingers here no longer 211 

Hinder me not ! the path is long and weary 47 

How few who from their youthful day Ill 

How doth Death speak of our beloved mrs. cuarles. 150 

Himself hath done it all 165 

Here brief is the sighing 200 

He is my Shepherd, I His sheep 233 

It was a time of sadness, and my heart 5 

I want that adorning divine 56 

I shine in the light of God 59 

I want to live near Jesus 66 

I loved them so 78 

I see them far away 107 

I cannot pray ; yet, Lord, Thou knowest.FRED. w. faber. 113 

I have a wonderful Guest 114 

It may be in the evening mrs. b. macandkew. 116 

I have a treasure which I prize 121 

I have a bridge v^ithin my heart A. d. F. R. 126 

I need Thee, precious Jesus 142 

I journey through a desert drear and wild 147 

In human* form enthroned 153 

In Thee, my heart, O Jesus ! finds repose 163 

In some wild Eastern legend the story has been told 167 

I had ^a-ank with lips unsated 175 

I dreamt we danced in careless glee 177 

I journey forth rejoicing 208 

I lay me down to sleep 228 

I gave my life for thee 232 



286 INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 



I cannot see with my short human sight 254 

It is His way, and so it must he right 242 

In the chill December weather eldbidge mix. 260 

" I hold audi am held !" What hold I to ? . . . s. t. clark 271 

Jesus, engrave it on my heart 32 

Jerusalem the Golden 255 

Let us be patient, God has taken from us 25 

Lord, hear my prayer 61 

Lord, I hear of showers of blessing 87 

Life's mystery— deep, restless as the ocean 91 

Leave me not now while still the shade is creeping 105 

Lord, I am come along with Thee 158 

Lord of my nights aud days 1 275 

Led by kindlier hand than ours g. zabriskie gbay. 264 

Man, in his weakness, needs a stronger stay 15 

My God, whose gracious pity I may claim 20 

My Dove 1 The Bridegroom speaks 35 

Must I my brother keep 63 

Must Jesus bear the cross alone 86 

My God, is any hour so sweet 134 

My wound is deep, I fain would sleep ; O Lord 

B. SIACANDREAV. 258 

Oh 1 for the happy days gone by tred. w. i:aber. 22 

One by one the sands are flowing 31 

One sweetly solemn thought phgebe cary. 33 

Oh I to be ready when death shall come • • 34 

O holy Saviour I Friend unseen 50 

Oh ! heaven is nearer than mortals think 58 

O Loving One ! O Bounteous One ! 148 

Oh ! for the peace which flowcth as a river 71 

O my Saviour crucified 89 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 287 



O shame ! we're somefimes fain to pay 133 

O Love Divine ! tliat stooped to sliare 137 

Oh, word, of words the sweetest ! mart a. kankin. 224 

O Lord, my God, 'tis early dawn s. J. cukrier. 236 

Pilgrim of earth, who art journeying to heaven 69 

Pain's furnace-heat within me quivers 85 

Return, return thee to thy only rest 65 

Eise ! for the day is passing 141 

Still onward through this land of foes 11 

Saviour, beneath Thy yoke . 52 

Silence filled the courts of heaven 72 

Some there are who seem exempted 96 

Say 1 shall I take the thorn away ? 161 

Since service is the highest lot 181 

So they said who saw the wonders 183 

She knew not what for them she sought — mrs. charles. 190 

Sitting in my humble doorway 210 

Such beautiful, beautiful hands ellen h. m. gates. 244 

Six days before the Passover 272 

Thou bidd'st us call 43 

Tossed with rough winds and faint witli fear 75 

The night was night ; behold, the shade was deeper 82 

Traveller, faint not on the road 95 

There came a little child with sunny hair 97 

They shall be mine 103 

The way is dark, my Father henry n. cobb. 128 

The way is dark, my child henry n. cobb. 130 

True fjiith, producing love to God and man 144 

Two Prayers, dear Lord, in One a. d. f. e. 146 

Thou art the Way mrs. charles. 154 

The tender light is fading where 170 



288 INDEX TO FIRST LINES, 



Thou knowest, Lord, tlie weariness and sorrow 179 

The strongest light casts deepest shade . . .mrs. chakles. 185 
Thoa shall be crowned, O mother blest I .. .mrs. charles. 186 

Thy miracles are no state splendors mrs. charles. 194 

The pathways of Thy land are little changed. iiKs. charles. 196 

The sun had sunk in the west mrs. b. macandrew. 202 

The time for toil is past 219 

The daylight has laded over the sea. .mrs. b. macandrew. 221 

This is the room where she slept 252 

The King of Glory standeth 208 

Trust in the Lord ! yea, trust in Him 265 

We are the Lord's. His, earthly life and spirit 214 

We need no change o f sphere 215 

Where the faded flowef shall freshen horatius bonar. 9 

When no kind earthly friend is near 51 

We wept— 'twas Nature wept, but Faith 76 

We ask for peace, O Lord I 89 

What though storm-clouds gather round me 123 

When shall I be at rest ? 124 

We see not, know not, all our way john g. whittier. 135 

When is the time for prayer ? 156 

When we reach a quiet dwelling 173 

When fall the evening shadows long and deep 191 

With faith and prayer henby n. cobb. 229 

When I set out to follow Jesus anna warneb. 238 

Yes, thou may'st weep 13 

Yes, pray for whom thou lovest 174 



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